


Life Should Not Resemble a Fairytale

by Jade_Dragoness



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alien Invasion, First Time, From Sex to Love, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Not Canon Compliant, Temporary Amnesia, magical deal, slime monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Except for the times that it really does with heroes in armor, magic-wielding princes, truly evil men, and monsters and most importantly the rescue of a loved one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Extra clarification on mind control, although there’s no dubcon or noncon but some people may react to it, so clear warning ahead of time.

While Clint knew Thor was technically an alien --even if he looked like a particular tall and buff human-- he’d honestly never expected he’d be dealing with a classic alien invasion during his stint as a member of the Avengers Initiative. Yet he wasn’t at all surprised when it happened.

“Hawkeye, there‘s a ship descending on the Met,” Coulson said sounding perfectly calm through the earpiece.

“Another one for me?” Clint asked as he ran even faster up Fifth Avenue. The Metropolitan Museum of Art would still be full of patrons this time of day. The aliens had come down in the middle of the day and too quickly to clear the city so a lot of public buildings had been instantly sent into lockdown. Emergency services were instructing everyone to stay indoors but that particularly defensive measure didn‘t work when an alien ship landed practically on top of a building full of people. “Aw sir, you know exactly what I like.”

“I‘ve got another of these guys dropping near a school if you don‘t have enough to do, Hawkeye,” Tony grumbled into the Avenger Initiative’s designated frequency.

“Where?” Steve asked grimly.

Clint heard a grunt from him and the distinct metallic ting the shield made as it hit something before it rebounded. He ignored the rest of the chatter as he entered an office building and used a SHIELD override to ride an elevator to the roof. He found an ideal spot to cover the evacuation of the Met. There were a handful of NYPD officers already on the scene. They were good and fast in getting the civilians out with minimal panic at least until the ship opened up a large bay door and the alien soldiers came out shooting.

Screams and gunfire erupted at once.

Clint didn’t hesitate and began taking down the attackers. The alien gun he’d gotten his mitts on, courtesy of Tony Stark, cut through their dark body armor like butter. Personally, he wished he could have used his arrows for this but he learned the hard way that these aliens could shift their bodies around until an injury which should have been fatal barely slowed them down. The same went for bullets. Fury had not been happy when they’d discovered guns were useless because it cost SHIELD five agents to learn that vital piece of intelligence before they‘d been ordered to pull back to rearm.

“Hey Coulson, don‘t you think that green aliens are kinda cliché?” Clint asked absently. The gun buzzed with every burst of fire, sounding a lot like a swarm of ticked-off bees every time Clint fired. The blasts were a rather pretty purple which he was never going to say out loud.

“Keep the comm clear, Hawkeye!” Came simultaneously from both Steve and Coulson. Clint grinned and his smile widened as he caught the blue-white flash of Mjölnir’s lightening from over the north end of Central Park as Thor attacked the ship which had landed there. The aliens’ ships weren’t big, only a little bigger than a city bus but there were a lot of them. Every Avengers was out on their own to cover as much as the city as possible.

“Hawkeye, you need to disable that ship because we have another one coming down a block away from you on Madison,” Coulson said. 

His voice was mostly calm but experience with the agent let Clint catch the undertone of tension that was always an indicator that the shit was hitting the fan. Hard. Extra adrenaline kicked into his system and Clint had to breathe through it. He really hated hearing that tone, last time he heard it was in the middle of a mission which ended up going spectacularly FUBAR and landed Clint, Coulson _and_ Natasha in the hospital for two weeks.

Crap.

“Got it, sir,” Clint said flatly. “Please ask NYPD to pull back.” He waited patiently the thirty seconds it took for the police officers to gather the lingering civilians and pulled everyone back to safe range. He shifted his aim to the engine ports which he’d learned was a weak spot from the last ship he‘d taken down. Clint’s shot was perfect, as if there was ever a doubt. The ship shuddered and tilted to the left. It spewed out black smoke and smashed part of the Met before it crashed down onto the steep steps which let up to the front entrance. The ship slid to a grinding stop halfway onto Fifth Avenue. More smoke poured out, thick and choking. 

The civilians cheered and waved up at Clint.

Clint barely had the chance to grin in triumph when he saw another ship descending from the sky. He swore under his breath as he tracked it and for once neither Coulson nor Steve scolded him. As soon as he saw it land he was up and down the elevator.

“Avengers,” Fury’s voice over the earpiece was so commanding that Clint came to attention from sheer reflex. He shook it off. “Return to base.”

“What?” Tony yelped. 

“Acknowledged, sir,” Steve said crisply. 

“Hey, we still have too many people on the streets. We need to deal with these guys,” Tony protested. Even as he spoke Clint could hear the pitched pulse of Iron Man’s repulsors being used. Wherever Tony he was, he was fighting hard. “I still have kids here.”

“Take them down then get your ass over here. These bastards are now dropping all over the goddamned country,” Fury growled. Clint’s fingers tightened until they ached from the pressure on alien not-quite-plastic. “We need the Avengers to take out the mother ship. SHIELD and the military can deal with the enemy on the ground, otherwise it won‘t just be New York we lose but the whole fucking planet.”

“Understood,” Natasha said calmly. “Black Widow: coming in.”  
*-*-*-*

It took Clint longer than he should have to join Avengers assembled at SHIELD Headquarters in the Helicarrier. Bruce was in full out Hulk-mode and refused to come in as he was caught up in fighting the aliens on the ground. And like the joke of the 800 pound gorilla getting to sit anywhere he wants, the ton of Hulk got to fight anything he wanted, so SHIELD stayed out of his way. Thor was the last one to join them. The thrill of combat made him reluctant to break battle until a sharp order from Coulson brought him in.

In HQ’s Command center there were a dozen agents urgently talking into headsets as they coordinated SHIELD teams with military and law enforcement agencies around the country. The level of tension in the room told Clint that the pressure of the situation was affecting them even if the agents where maintaining calm expressions. Agent Coulson and Agent Maria Hill were giving orders over their own headsets as they stood next to Fury, ready to also pass along his orders. Clint saw that out of all of the agents in the room --with the exception of Fury-- Coulson looked the most relaxed which told him exactly how badly they were fucked. Coulson always looked extra calm when situations were at their worst.

“The good news it that we have the exact location of the mother ship,” Fury said, glaring at the large digital screen which covered an entire wall in the command center of the Helicarrier.

“That‘s one ugly ship,” Tony said, leaning towards the large screen where a feed from a military satellite looked down at the alien mother ship. It was ugly with weird protrusions and angles. A smaller side screen on another wall showed a camera feed from the ground. Each video showed a steady stream of smaller ships leaving the mother ship and descending on the planet.

“Who cares about their spaceship designs?” Fury snapped.

“I hate ask but what’s the bad news?” Clint asked. 

“The bad news is that every city on the planet with a population of over 500,000 people is getting hit by the smaller attack ships,” Coulson said, breaking off from the steady flow of orders he was giving over the SHIELD radio band to the agents on the ground. Hill smoothly continued giving orders for him. “Even with every SHIELD agent in action and every other agency we‘ve been able to contact, we‘re spread too thin to stop the invasion.”

Fury’s one visible eye damn near shot off sparks from the intensity of his anger. “The Avengers need to take these bastards down at the source,” he growled.

Tony frowned thoughtfully. “How? We don‘t have a space rocket.” He blinked, and shot Fury a sulky look. “Unless SHIELD is holding back on some of their resources. Do you have a rocket? And how come I didn‘t know about it?”

Fury grimaced. “No, we don‘t have a rocket or any other kind of spaceship but NASA has orders to move and fuel up a shuttle. They should be prepared to launch by the time all of you arrive.”

“That will take hours even if they do a rush job which isn‘t exactly reassuring,” Tony said grimacing. “Anyway, I doubt they have the right equipment to dock with that ship.”

Fury drilled a glare at him. “Do you have a spaceship you haven‘t told us about, Stark?”

“No, but I will next time. JARVIS make a note: I need to design a spaceship. Hmm, maybe in Iron Man colors,” Tony said thoughtfully. His eyes were distracted, and his armored fingers twitched as if he was already building the specs. “Noted, sir,” JARVIS said, audible over the speakers in the flipped open visor in Iron Man’s helmet.

“You want there to be a next time?” Clint asked curiously. 

“There are people under attack right this minute,” Steve said, shooting Tony and Clint an annoyed look. Steve’s hands clenched into fists, the leather of his gloves creaking as every inch of him radiated controlled anger. “We don‘t have hours. Hundreds of people will die.”

“Or thousands or millions.”

Loki’s coolly amused voice made them spin towards him as he stepped out of the shadows. Clint aimed the alien weapon right in the middle of his expensive black suit. Tony aimed both his repulsors at him, Natasha had her gun aimed and Steve looked ready to leap. Every agent in the control room had their weapon out with the exception of Hill who kept giving out orders without hesitation. Coulson narrowed his blue eyes as he acknowledged the new threat and he aimed the gun sights right at Loki’s head.

Thor beamed and stepped forward, his face suffused with delight. “Brother, you look well! Much better than our previous meeting!”

Loki snapped, rage twisting his face. “Stop calling me: brother.”

Their last meeting had involved the Avengers beating his ass, Clint mentally snorted. Last time he’d seen the god, a bruised and bleeding Loki had vanished in a swirl of green and golden light. It had been eleven months now and nowhere near long enough in Clint’s opinion.

“Why are you here?” Fury growled, before Thor could voice his protest at Loki‘s words. 

Loki dismissed Thor with a sneer before turning his entire attention on Fury. The cold smile which spread across his face made Clint uneasy. “I‘m here to help you.”

Fury snorted in disbelief. “Right, and I‘m Stark‘s mother.”

Clint grinned because the disgusted grimace on Tony’s face was one to treasure. If he survived this day he made a mental note to get a screen capture of it from SHIELD’s security cameras.

“Oh, I didn‘t say that I would do it out of the goodness of my heart,” Loki said. He took a step closer to Fury and Coulson tracked his movement without a change of expression. “I could send your Avengers right into the heart of the ship but there will be a price for my magic.” The disdain in Loki’s voice veritably dripped from his voice.

Fury glared Loki for a moment as they all considered the implications. With Loki’s help they would gain hours, and considering the uncertainty of the space shuttle even working, Loki could guarantee their access to the interior of the alien ship. The number of lives that would be saved would be incalculable. Hundreds for certain, maybe even millions and in a worse case scenario: the entire planet.

“Sir, it could greatly improve the odds of success,” Coulson added calmly.

“You‘re not actually listening to him!” Tony exclaimed in disbelief. 

Fury’s glare at Loki intensified. He snapped, “What do you get out of this? And how do you guarantee we can trust the God of motherfucking Dirty Tricks.”

“It will be a deal,” Loki said. There was satisfaction in the cruel slant of his mouth. He knew he had them. “It would be sealed with magic. I would not be able to break it.”

“Thor?” Steve asked. 

Thor looked away from his brother to look at Steve. “He is correct, my friends. A binding magical deal cannot be broken by either party without a backlash. He would be true to his word.”

“You still haven‘t said what you want,” Tony said to Loki. His dark eyes glittered with anger.

“It would not be anything you can not part with,” Loki said to Fury. He looked at all the Avengers, skipping his brother although he took note of the SHIELD agents at their stations. Everyone met his eyes with a defiantly raised chin. Loki’s grin looked madder and madder with every bold look. He took another step towards Fury. Coulson sidled carefully between them with a silent warning in his blue eyes. Loki eyed him for a moment before he dismissed him with a sneer as he shifted his gaze back to Fury. “You’re a king of your own little kingdom. I just want one of your subjects.”

Clint didn’t react but he could hear more than one agent in the room inhale in surprise. 

Loki’s grin was wolfish. “It would just be one life.” The god turned his back on them and eyed the ship still hovering on the screen before them. The stream of descending enemies hadn’t slowed down. “A small price to pay, don‘t you think?”

“No,” Steve said firmly. 

Loki turned back to them. “But it‘s not your choice to make, Captain. It is your Director‘s. The King makes the decision here. Not the soldier.”

“We‘re not going to sacrifice anyone!” Steve said. Clint thought it was a nice sentiment, but not at all realistic and from the rigid tension in Steve’s broad shoulders he knew it too.

Fury’s expression was unreadable. Everyone was quiet as they watched him think until Coulson broke the silence. “Sir, we‘re losing agents and civilians with every minute. If this is the means to save them then it’s acceptable price to pay.”

A muscle in Fury’s jaw jumped. “I know that, Coulson.” He and Coulson exchanged a look which was undecipherable on both their ends before Fury looked back at Loki. The god was still smiling a cold and creepy grin. “None of the Avengers are part of this deal.”

Loki tilted his head to the side the smile sliding off his face. “Pity. I rather liked the idea of claiming the green monster you call the Hulk for my own.”

Clint swallowed down his horror at the mental picture of the amount of destruction and death a Loki controlled Hulk could bring about. He honestly didn’t know if they’d be able to stop him without a lot of casualties and Bruce would never forgive himself if he so much as hurt an innocent. 

“And you can‘t make them divulge any confidential information,” Fury added with a dangerous bare of white teeth.

“Agreed,” Loki breathed. His expression was hungry as if he was going to devour the flesh from Fury’s bones the moment he accepted. The weight of uneasiness which had been growing in Clint’s guts from the moment Loki stepped out of the shadows became nearly unbearable. “Say the words, mortal.”

Clint held his breath for an eternity as Fury’s mouth tightened like he tasted something disgusting. Finally Fury gritted, “Fine, I agree. Your help for one of my people.” 

Loki lifted his hand, flicked his wrist and pulled a long golden staff out of mid-air. He spun it once and planted it before him. “The King has sacrificed one of his warriors to me.” The head of the staff pulsed with white light, and the modern high-end suit Loki wore became dark green plates of armor in that medieval-like style of Asgard. Loki’s low laugh of victory made the hairs on the back of Clint’s neck stand up. “Then I will collect my payment afterwards.”

Fury eyed him suspiciously. “Why not now?”

“I‘ll wait to see who survives the upcoming battle then I‘ll make my choice,” Loki said with a superior look. He turned to stare at the Avengers and raised his staff. “Prepare yourself.” He brought it back down with a slam which blinded Clint with a flash of bright green.  
*-*-*-*

Clint blinked his eyes to clear it of black spots and heard the roar of an angry Hulk before he fully regained his vision. The Avengers were in the middle of some sort of launching bay. He could see opened and empty attack ships to his left. Unfortunately, they’d also appeared in the midst of nearly fifty of the alien soldiers but before they could get over their surprise to attack the Avengers they were forced to deal with a furious Hulk. 

“Shit,” Clint swore and targeted the nearest alien who aimed at him. Tony cursed furiously and shot his repulsors knocking several aliens ass over teakettle like they were bowling pins and he‘d just hit a strike. 

Loki was nowhere in sight.

“Is it just me or did we forget to get a ride off this tin can?” Tony huffed.

Clint kicked at a close alien before he shot him in the head. The alien gun hummed in his hand as he shot another blast at an alien who got too close to Natasha. “There are plenty of those attack ships around. We can steal one. I‘ve always wanted to take joy ride in a spaceship.”

“There was never a guarantee this was a two-way trip, Stark,” Natasha said calmly, as she shot her own alien gun with an angry bzzzt. She flipped to the side and just missed getting shot. She returned fire. 

Tony sighed. “Okay, point taken, but I’m still lodging a complaint with our travel agency.”

“Avengers! We need to find the control room!” Steve shouted. Clint and Natasha immediately followed after him. They covered each other’s back with every step, shooting purple blasts of fire at the aliens.

“This is a spaceship, you should at least call it the bridge,” Tony complained. He snickered, “We’re going where no man has gone before.” 

Natasha cleared her throat delicately. 

“Human-- where no human has gone before,” Tony corrected himself hastily. Then he yelped as the Hulk tossed a screaming alien right past his head. “Hey, watch it!”

“Go my friends! The Hulk and I will hold off the enemy!” Thor called after them. 

“Tony! Where should we go?” Steve asked, as he punched an alien which was changing shape --getting bigger and bigger-- before he smashed him in the face with the shield and dropped him with a heavy ka-thump.

“My guess? Upwards!” Tony said. He pointed towards a door which led into what looked like an elevator shaft which disappeared up into the high ceiling. 

Steve nodded and cut a swathe through the aliens. Tony flipped down the Iron Man visor and shot after him. 

Clint gave Natasha a grin. “Ladies first.”

Natasha’s return smile promised a beat down in their next sparring session. “Then you better go on ahead,” she said sweetly,

Clint laughed and followed after Captain America. Any worries he had about Loki and Fury’s deal he shoved out of his mind. It had nothing to do with him now because only the mission at hand mattered. 

It was time to save the world, again.  
*-*-*-*

It took the Avengers a little over three hours to find the bridge, shut it down and end the alien invasion of Earth. Not that it was as easy said as done. They had to fight tooth and nail through the ship’s corridors, locate the damned bridge and get into it. There they fought even harder to take down the alien leader who had a squad of personal guards even tougher than the soldiers.

Clint hated to admit it but having Loki’s help was probably the only thing which had allowed them to win the fight. From what Tony had learned from their computers it would have been impossible to be able to get close enough to enter the mother ship in a space shuttle without being detected. The would have been blown into pieces before they got within a mile of it. Yet even with the advantage the trickster god had given them, Clint had ended up with a broken arm and a twisted ankle. Natasha had been clipped by a lucky shot from one of the alien guns and had a deep furrow cut into her right thigh. The only reason she hadn’t lost too much blood was due more to the blast cauterizing the wound as it hit than from their first aid training. And Steve was so bruised that only the fact that he was Captain America kept them from worrying about internal bleeding. Not that it stopped Tony from fussing. Clint was going to call him Iron Mother Hen next time Tony called him the Great Arrow-Wonder.

The alien computers had also damn near fried JARVIS until the AI program had managed to adapt. It had been JARVIS that allowed Tony to understand the system enough to stop the invasion. They also lucked out that Thor’s Allspeak allowed the Avengers to properly threaten the leader into ordering the wholesale surrender of all the ground forces. To everyone’s relief, SHIELD agents showed up soon afterwards. With Tony in the computers they’d been able to safely commandeer a couple of the attack ships to take a ride back up to the mother ship without having to worry about being shot down. Clint hadn’t been at all surprised to learn that the first ship to dock held Coulson. It was reassuring to hear the agent’s voice in his earpiece. It meant that the situation on the ground had to be in control for Fury to let Coulson go. If he’d been needed then Fury would have kept him to coordinate the defensive forces.

“It‘s good to see you, sir,” Clint said, from where he was sitting against the wall facing what Tony thought was the alien brig. They‘d managed to get the bridge crew down into the cells although Tony had yet to figure out how to seal them in. Last Clint heard from him he’d been muttering about shields and energy forces and material stressors. Clint had tuned it out once Steve had ordered him to stand guard.

Coulson stepped onto the bridge with an assessing look at the aliens sitting in their cell. Clint was amused that Coulson was still wearing his suit instead of the SHIELD field uniform. It was hilarious to him that Coulson hated the SHIELD uniform and refused to wear it at long as he could. The last time Clint had seen him in it had been five months ago and it had taken a direct order from Fury. “You know you won’t be able to keep from wearing the SHIELD uniform forever. You’ve already held off 154 days, Coulson.”

Coulson’s eyebrows rose at Clint. “I don‘t think my sartorial choices are actually important enough for you to keep track, Barton.”

“I’ve bet Natasha that you‘d be able to hold out another two weeks,” Clint said cheerfully. 

“Your faith in me is flattering,” Coulson said dryly. 

Clint grinned. There was something about teasing Coulson that made the ache in his ankle and arm feel better. “Well, sir, she bet you‘d be able to make it another three months.”

Coulson sighed and shook his head, but the faint smile at the corners of his mouth made Clint’s grin widen. “How are your prisoners behaving?” Coulson asked. 

“Oh, a couple of them tried to shift, but this baby puts a stop to that,” Clint said, wagging the barrel of the alien gun lightly from where it was sighted over the line of sitting prisoners. He was using his uninjured leg as a brace for the gun since one arm was out of commission. Fortunately whatever sort of materials made up the gun left it lightweight enough to make it fairly easy to operate one handed.

“Good,” Coulson said. “In about another hour we should have enough agents aboard the ship to send you down for medical treatment.”

“Sounds good, sir,” Clint said. He looked over at the aliens who were looking at them with stony expressions, their protruding chins giving them an aggressive look. “I‘m glad I don‘t have to deal with the aftermath of this.”

Coulson grimaced. “Don‘t remind me. SHIELD is going to have to come-up with entire new forms of paperwork just to get everything properly categorized especially in dealing with prisoners from an alien invasion attempt of the planet. Just thinking about the hizzy fit the World Security Council is going to throw is giving me a headache, never mind how other agencies will react when they learn SHIELD has control of the mother ship.”

“Better you than me, sir.” Clint said cheerfully.

“Thanks for that, Barton.” 

“You‘re welcome, sir,” Clint grinned. Coulson’s mouth twitched again with a suppressed smile.

“There you are.”

Clint and Coulson both stiffened as Loki appeared next to them with a smug expression on his face. Clint prepared himself for an attack. Loki ignored him even though Clint had the gun barrel pointed right at his chest. The soft sounds of the aliens shifting made Clint swing the aim back with a curse and a low growl of warning. They may not understand English but they understood that. They froze. Then it hit Clint as to why Loki would be here when the only SHIELD agent in the room was Coulson. 

“No!” Clint snarled and he instantly shifted aim of the gun to fire. The god didn’t even look at him as he waved a hand at Clint’s direction rendering him unable to move or speak before even Clint’s reflexes could get off the shot.

“Agent Phillip Coulson,” Loki said coldly. “I have come for my payment.”

Coulson‘s expression didn‘t change but the stillness of his body language told Clint he‘d figured out _exactly_ why Loki was here. Clint mentally pushed at Coulson to go for his sidearm or knife or for the radio. Coulson needed to do _something_ no matter how ultimately futile it was. Loki took three slow steps until he was right up against Coulson’s front forcing the agent to lean his head back to look into the god’s eyes, leaving barely an inch of space between them.

“I believe you need to speak to Director Fury about your choice,” Coulson finally said after an intolerable minute of them staring at each other and neither backing down. Clint growled low in his throat and strained against the magic which held him in place. Even from his angle, Clint could see the hungry smile curling up on Loki’s lips. 

“No, I don‘t think I do,” Loki said, with an amused tilt of his head. He raised his hand until it hovered right before Coulson‘s face. “Agent Phillip Coulson, you are mine as agreed upon by the deal made by your king. Or should I say, your _former_ king.”

Coulson stiffened as green light glittered from Loki’s hand and crossed the space between them before sinking into his eyes. He slowly blinked twice before his eyes remained closed and his knees buckled. Loki caught Coulson preventing him from hitting the floor and behind his silenced mouth Clint howled in frustration and anger.

“You are not his strongest warrior, nor his most powerful, his bravest or deadliest,” Loki whispered into Coulson‘s ear, “but you are his _most_ devoted and faithful. Nicholas Joseph Fury has given you to me. All the loyalty you once held for him is now _mine._ ” To Clint’s horror, Loki shoved his hand into Coulson’s chest. “Your _heart_ has been sold to me. It is mine!” Loki breathed out harshly. He drew back his hand from Coulson’s chest. There was no blood to Clint’s relief but there was something shinning with incandescent golden light between Loki’s long fingers. The god closed his first around whatever he’d pulled out of Coulson’s chest before even Clint’s sharp eyes could see it clearly.

Coulson inhaled deeply as if taking a breath after being deprived of air for minutes. He slowly opened his eyes. Clint’s own heart skipped a beat when he saw how formally well known blue eyes were now an unfamiliar dark green.

“Who are you?” Loki asked. 

Coulson blinked up at him before he carefully straightened out of Loki’s arms. Loki let him go as he waited for his answer.

“I‘m Phil Coulson, Agent of Loki,” Coulson said calmly as he straightened his suit jacket and then his tie. He frowned slightly. “But you know that, sir.”

Up until now, Clint had thought himself pretty inured to all the horrors the world could dish out. Hell, he’d even been responsible for a few but hearing Phil Coulson call Loki ‘sir’ with every evident sign of sincerity was new nightmare fuel that was going to haunt him for many sleepless nights to come. 

“Yes, Agent Coulson. I do,” Loki agreed, smiling cruelly. He stretched out his dark green cloak over them both until Coulson was hidden from Clint’s view. “We have work to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

Then they were gone and Clint could move again. He shifted the gun barrel back at the alien prisoners who hadn’t stirred the entire time before he opened up a comm line through the earpiece in his ear. 

“Avengers, we have a problem. Loki‘s taken Coulson.”


	2. Chapter 2

Clint’s SHIELD debriefing was among the grimmest he’d ever gone through. And he was including the ones where missions had gone spectacularly record-breaking bad or when he’d been so injured he’d been stuck in a hospital bed and had to debrief through a haze of the good drugs because he‘d been the only one that survived the mission.

“I can’t believe he took Coulson,” Tony said in disbelief. He’d been repeating that sentence virtually every other minute and every time the words plucked at Clint’s nerves, making him tense. He swore that if he heard it just one more time he was going to shoot Stark through the foot or the arm. Somewhere non-fatal but painful: like his tongue. “He could have picked anyone, why Coulson?”

“Shut up, Stark,” Clint growled. It wasn’t helping his bad mood that he hadn’t had his injuries treated yet, other than a quick sling for his arm which Steve had put together for him from the straps of his Hawkeye uniform. There hadn’t been time since they’d returned back to Earth and although he _hated_ injuries which affected his ability to shoot, Clint hadn‘t wanted to stop by SHIELD Medical and waste precious minutes.

“My brother must have a reason to take the Son of Coul,” Thor said loudly. “But I can not see what such a reason could be as he does not foster a high opinion of mortals. Unless the Son of Coul was chosen to bring grief to our hearts.”

Fury leaned forward to drill Clint with a dangerous glare. “Tell me every word said and everything that happened.”

Clint repeated everything verbatim. Everyone around the long conference table looked unhappy at the news of what had occurred in the alien brig. The only person missing from this debrief was Natasha because her leg injury was serious with a high risk of infection and she had more sense than to ignore getting treatment.

“Loki took Coulson‘s heart?” Tony said, spooked pale. He slowly rubbed at his chest with his right hand. The black long-sleeved shirt he’d been wearing under the Iron Man suit barely held in the glow of the arc reactor. Tony left his hand right above it, blocking the dim light.

“He took _something_ from his chest,” Clint said stiffly, hiding his misery at not being certain what Loki had done to Coulson. Just the memory of seeing Loki’s hand pushing into Coulson made him feel chilled with remembered horror. What he’d seen had not only looked completely unnatural it had also felt _wrong_ leaving the sensation to settled deep into his guts with increasing unease the more he thought about it. It had felt like Loki had broken some fundamental law of the universe with what he‘d done but Clint’s feelings about it didn‘t make any sense. Clint was beginning to get why Tony loathed magic as much as he did. “He said it was, but I couldn‘t see it clearly.”

“That is old magic,” Thor said slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Magic that is no longer used in Asgard.”

“What do you mean, Thor?” Steve asked, leaning forward.

“Explain!” Fury snapped.

They all stared at Thor, who looked somber. “Understand my friends. I have little skill in magic, and my brother‘s talent and understanding of it is virtually unparalleled in all the Nine Realms with the exception of our parents. Loki has studied magic since our youth, taught by our mother. He has learned every kind of Asgardian magic including the histories of magical lore which are ancient even to our people. He occasionally spoke of them. I--I did not play much heed. To my grief I must admit that I dismissed them as unimportant.”

“Thor, get to the point,” Fury ordered. 

Thor nodded. “The magic of Kings is such ancient magic and it would allow Loki to claim the loyalty of the Son of Coul. To rule a kingdom, to rule a people, oaths of loyalty and fealty are exchanged between a king and his warriors. Once such power was exchanged with magic so when a king handed down his throne to his chosen heir these bonds where passed from the old king to the new. Asgardian rulers no longer use such spells but my brother would know of them. And my brother received permission to obtain the possession of such loyalty from the Director.”

“But Director Fury isn‘t a king,” Steve protested in bewilderment. “We don‘t have kings in this country.” 

“He is not a king by lineage or tradition,” Thor agreed. “His kingship is of an older sort, from a time when a warrior battled for power and recognition and received loyalty from his fellow warriors. He is a protector, defender and leader with many warriors under his command. By the most ancient definitions of kingship, he is a king.”

Fury didn’t look at all impressed. 

“And my brother is a royal prince in both tradition and bloodline; that old magic would recognize his rank and allow him to transfer another ruler’s oath-sworn unto his.”

“Which means?” Clint asked, impatiently. The fingers in his uninjured hand twitched and itched for the feel of a bow in his hand.

Thor hesitated then he asked seriously, “Does the Son of Coul have a wife or beloved?”

“No,” Fury said flatly. 

“Then without another to lay a stronger claim to the heart of the Son of Coul, he will belong to my brother.” Thor’s expression was the most grave and sad that Clint had ever seen on him. “I am truly sorry my friends. 

He is forever lost to us.”  
*-*-*-*

Clint refused to accept it, even as the days slipped by and his leg and arm fully healed up. Even when they had to deal with the aftermath of the alien invasion when they learned the aliens could do more than shift their shape around. They could shape shift into exact physical replicas of people. Clint just refused to believe they wouldn’t get Coulson back. But even with general orders for all SHIELD agents to keep their eyes open for Coulson no one reported seeing the man as the days turned into weeks. And in that time Fury looked more haggard and tired than Clint had ever seen. It was actually damn scary.

Not that Clint felt like forgiving him for the deal which had cost them Coulson. He could barely stand to be near Fury without his fingers itching to shoot and his bitterness spilling over into biting words. The only person who kept him from acting incredibly stupid once he lost the cast on his arm was Natasha, who dragged him into the gym and kicked his ass until he felt less homicidal. Dealing with his bruises didn’t keep the sound of Coulson agreeing he was an Agent of Loki from echoing in his mind but it made him too tired and achy to violently lash out about it.

Eventually, Agent Maria Hill was assigned to the post of permanent SHIELD liaison to, and handler of, the Avengers. Clint considered it the second worse decision Fury made to date yet she was the next in line in seniority after Coulson. On paper she should have been perfect for the Avengers Initiative. She’d dealt with them before, and she had experience on the field as well as several important political connections but she barely made it a fortnight before the Avengers became fed up with her attitude.

“That‘s it,” Bruce snapped, his skin tinged green. “I‘m not working with you anymore!”

“Breathe, Bruce,” Steve said calmly although his expression wasn’t at all pleased.

“You will listen to orders, Banner,” Hill snapped, as she leaned forward with her palms flat on the conference table. “Or do you want to end up in a holding cell? I have one that will even hold your other half.”

Bruce’s eyes shone green and his growl was all Hulk. 

“Don‘t worry, buddy,” Clint said, settling a hand on Bruce’s left shoulder. On the other side of Bruce, Thor did the same. They’d learned months ago that a friendly human touch could sometimes calm Bruce down before he fully hulked out.

“Hill, be quiet!” Steve ordered. The command in his voice made her jaw snap shut, but her eyes radiated fury. 

Tony smirked from where he leaned back on his chair. He had his Italian black leather shoes up on the table. “I‘d listen to the good Captain, Hill. Unless you think you can deal with the Hulk all on your own.”

It took a couple of minutes and careful controlled breathing before the green shine in Bruce’s eyes faded. He nodded to Clint and Thor to tell them he was back in control. Clint patted his back before removing his hand. 

Hill’s chin went up. “You all disobeyed orders when taking down the alien shape-shifters.”

“They‘re called Skrulls,” Tony said snidely.

“Agent Hill, we‘ve fought them before,” Steve said calmly. “We don‘t need to follow exact orders when it comes to dealing with them.”

“You were supposed to take out their new command center in Manhattan, instead you split up and went after various attack sites,” Hill snarled. “If you had followed orders the fight wouldn‘t have taken as long.”

“The Skrull guerillas were attacking civilians,” Steve said, his blue eyes narrowing with anger. He straightened, and every inch of him radiated determination. “People were being killed right before our very eyes. We weren‘t about to ignore them. An Avengers will _never_ turn away from anyone in need of our help.”

Hill opened her mouth but Natasha cut her off. “Tactically, it wasn‘t necessary for the entire Avengers team to take down their new leader,” she said coolly. “Their defenses barely stood up to Thor.”

“And having Tony, Steve and Bruce battling the Skrulls on the streets distracted the new big-head Skrull guy,” Clint said smugly. He smirked at Hill. “They didn‘t see us coming.”

“I will be writing all of you up on insubordinate charges,” Hill hissed.

“Good luck with that Hill,” Tony said mock-cheerfully. “My lawyers will talk to your lawyers.” The toothy smile on Tony’s face was downright shark-like. “I have the feeling I have more lawyers than SHIELD does, and if I don‘t? I can definitely get more.”

Hill’s eyes narrowed with anger as she took in all their stony expressions. Then she stiffly stood up before she stalked off, slamming the door behind her.

“I never thought I‘d say this,” Tony sighed. “But I miss Coulson.” He shuddered. “I even miss his threats to taze me. Oh hell, now I feel all dirty and wrong inside.”

“Phil, the Son of Coul treated warriors well,” Thor agreed. The frown on his face as he looked in the direction in which Hill had disappeared freaked Clint out. Thor almost never frowned like that with a darkening expression like gathering thunderclouds. Clint eyed Mjölnir warily as the hammer shot off fat blue-white sparks.

“A mission will _never_ have priority over the lives of people we‘ve sworn to protect,” Steve said firmly; his blue eyes were steely and fierce. He gazed into each of their eyes in order for them to see the depth of his determination. Tony straightened and put his feet back onto the floor when Steve‘s gaze landed on him. Every Avenger nodded in silent but fervent agreement with Captain America. “I will speak with Director Fury,” Steve continued firmly. “Agent Hill is not a good choice for the Avengers.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Clint said sarcastically. “I wouldn‘t hold my breath.”  
*-*-*-*

Clint‘s opinion about the benefits of Steve talking to Fury proved right. Fury refused to reassign Hill, even at the request of his golden boy. Hill refused to change her attitude towards them and continued to treat them like unruly children until the Avengers began to rebel. None of them liked being treated like raw inexperienced agents with no brains in their heads to make the right calls in the field. And a month after Hill’s appointment every Avenger accepted Tony’s invitation to move into Stark Tower just to get away from her with Bruce being the first and Natasha the last. Tony took special delight in refusing to allow any SHIELD agent a permanent office or room in his building. Hill was just as stubborn in her refusal to cater to his demands that she meet them at the Tower for briefings and sent Sitwell in her place. 

In Clint’s opinion Agent Sitwell was a decent sort but he regarded Tony with a level of amusement that rankled on the man and Steve with a depth of unrelenting hero worship which made him uneasy around the agent. Yet Sitwell treated them well overall which made Clint feel a little guilty over how often he took potshots with his bow at the agent until Sitwell practically jumped every time he saw him. But he wasn’t Coulson and that was enough for Clint to want him gone.

Sitwell lasted three weeks before putting in a request for a transfer.

The next four agents barely lasted five days each. Clint couldn’t even claim credit for getting rid of them. Thor, JARVIS and Bruce were actually to blame. Clint never did learn what Agent O’Brien had done to manage to piss off Tony’s A.I. but he certainly suffered before he ran back to the Helicarrier. Clint hadn’t even known JARVIS was programmed to hold a grudge. Tony had been delighted when he’d caught on and spent a couple of days going over JARVIS’s core programming while chortling in delight. 

Their last agent succumbed to paperwork, sorta. The man had been so tired from trying to catch up with the backlog and keep them up to date on known threats that he’d been too slow getting out of the way of a Doombot attack which left him with two broken legs, a cracked hip and a concussion. When he’d woken up in SHIELD Medical he’d sworn to never work with the team again unless he was the last agent left on Earth and even then he’d quit first.

Fury had not been pleased at the quick turnover. Ultimately, he put Steve in charge of keeping them informed on enemy activity. And since Steve and Natasha were the only ones who could tolerate Hill without wanting to kill her, they were the ones who had regular debriefings with her, as well as being in charge of handing in the Avengers sit-reps. Clint could have dealt with her too, if he’d been willing to make the effort, but his tolerance for dealing with difficult superiors had been destroyed long ago. Coulson had known how to deal with him.

Coulson, he admitted to himself not for the first time, had completely spoiled him for everyone else.

“I can‘t believe I miss you so much,” Clint said aloud, shaking his head at himself. He was sitting on the roof of Stark Tower; the glowing blue STARK sign shone to the right of his dangling feet. The high winds made the balancing act a little tricky, since they kept trying to send him tumbling off the ledge and onto the street, but not impossible. Clint snorted and took another swing of the beer he’d stolen from Tony’s stash of handcrafted European imports. The small brown bottle was Clint‘s current favorite, and hard as hell to get a hold of, unless your name was Stark. “It‘s been months, where the hell are you, Coulson?” he sighed and stared off gloomily at the Chrysler Building. It had a shiny new chrome top after the lightening strike it had taken from Thor so it shone like a jewel even in the dim light of the setting sun but Clint didn’t really see it, distracted as he was by the gruesome images in his head.

“Oh, there you are, Clint.”

Clint waved absently at Bruce who shuffled onto the roof in green fluffy slippers and a grey hoodie sweater Tony had gotten for him for his birthday several months ago. The sweater had on its front Kermit the Frog holding a guitar and the legend ‘It’s Not Easy Being Green’ scrolled beneath Kermit’s webbed feet. “Did you just wake up?” Clint wouldn’t have thought Bruce would like all the green presents Tony kept buying for him but Bruce genuinely liked them. Probably because most people didn’t dare to tease him about the Hulk and Tony had no hesitations or survival instincts in that regard.

“I spent the last forty hours in the lab before I crashed for a couple hours,” Bruce nodded; his eyes were red-rimmed and gummy.

Clint eyed him carefully. “You look like shit. Don‘t tell me, you feel asleep at the lab too.” 

“I was trying to work out the thermal absorption rates in the ships‘ outer skin since it‘s not any kind of material I‘ve seen before,” Bruce shrugged, and huddled more into his sweater as a particularly cold gust of wind hit the roof. “Then I got distracted with research into the Skrulls’ bio-kinetic ability to manipulate their cells into new structures and--.”

“--you‘re as bad as Tony,” Clint said cutting off what he was sure was bound to be a long list of scientific babble. 

“Please, don‘t say that,” Bruce said jokingly, smiling.

“You need a keeper,” Clint snorted and took a deep swallow of his beer.

Bruce leaned forward, his forearms resting on the ledge right next to where Clint was sitting. The winds tugged at the dark curls on his head. “We had a keeper,” he said softly. 

Clint felt like he’d been Hulk-punched in the gut. “Yeah,” he strangled out. The beer bottle in his grip cracked until Clint forced himself to stop and loosen his grip. The last thing the team needed was for their marksman to end up with a hand full of glass splinters.

Bruce put his hand upon Clint’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “We‘ll find him.”

“Loki could’ve taken him anywhere in the universe by now,” Clint said bitterly. Or Loki could have killed him or worse, he refused to say aloud. The idea that Coulson could be suffering as some sort of proxy for the Avengers made him nauseous. The beer threatened to come up again.

“Well yes, he could… but we have spaceships now.”

The surprised laughter bursting from Clint’s throat was the first honest bit of delight he’d felt since the Skrull mother ship. “Yeah, that‘s right.”  
*-*-*-*

Two days later, they dealt with their first major catastrophe since cutting nearly all their ties to SHIELD.

“How seriously bad is this Baron Zemo guy, Steve?” Tony asked, and they rushed to Yankee Stadium. Clint, Natasha and Bruce where in one of Tony’s fastest cars --with Natasha driving-- while Steve led them in his motorcycle, and Tony and Thor flew overhead.

“He’s not just bad, he‘s evil,” Steve said fiercely. “He used to be part of the Red Skull‘s top tier commanders and he was highly respected in the Nazi Party. He honestly believes he’s superior to practically everyone, and he killed a lot of innocent people during the war. The Howling Commandos and I took him down. I don‘t understand how he can still be alive.”

“Maybe it‘s not really him,” Bruce said frowning. “He‘s wearing that full face mask. You can‘t even see his eyes. Maybe it‘s someone who‘s taken the name. It wouldn’t be first time we‘ve fought copy-cats.”

“I don’t know, it really did sound like he’d fought Steve before,” Clint said, remembering Zemo‘s demands. There was a lot of familiarity in the wording. “Otherwise why would he want to fight him so badly?”

“It doesn‘t matter either way,” Natasha said firmly. “We need to rescue those people.”

Six civilians had been taken. That’s how many the Avengers had seen on the video being streamed by every news station in the city. JARVIS had been able to identify the women and men as diplomats to the US from Mexico, Japan, India, South Africa, Israel, and China. They’d been strapped into bombs with a Hydra agent holding detonator and a gun stood right behind them. Zemo’s demanded that Steve show up to fight him in a match to the death or he‘d kill the diplomats. He’d also demanded Steve show up alone at Yankee Stadium which was the location Zemo had picked for the fight. 

Clint had no idea if this Zemo guy was grandstanding or thinking tactically in picking the stadium. He did know that he felt unease about moving in without SHIELD providing a solid backup, and he wasn’t the only one but the team just had to move too fast to wait for SHIELD agents join them. Zemo had given Steve fifteen minutes to show up. Steve had barely stopped to pick up his shield --he hadn’t even suited up-- before he’d torn out of Stark Tower but less picked up the phone to contact Hill.

“What‘s the plan going to be?” Clint asked into his earpiece.

“I go in alone,” Steve said.

“Yeah, how about we say _no_ to that plan,” Tony said furiously. “That‘s not happening.”

“Yes, it will,” Steve said firmly, in his best Captain America authoritative voice. “Because while I distract Zemo, the rest of you will be freeing his hostages.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Clint said lightly. He double-checked every inch of his collapsible compound bow and the number of arrows in his quiver. Everything was perfect. Exactly the same way it had been when he looked over his gear last night and again this morning.

“I‘m worried about those detonators,” Bruce said, he was examining the copied footage on a StarkTech tablet. He’d paused it on the best image of the hostages and the Hydra agents behind them. “The detonators don’t look like they’re activated by radio frequency, which means we can’t jam them.”

“And the Hydra agents are mostly likely using dead-man switches,” Natasha said coolly, she smoothly passed a three slow cars. Horns blasted behind them. 

“Sorry!” Bruce called out.

“Damn, so no go on shooting them where they stand,” Clint said in annoyance. There went his first plan of action to rescue the hostages.

“Bruce, you‘re going to have to sit this one out at least as the Hulk,” Steve ordered. “The Hulk is an unstoppable force but he nowhere near fast enough to keep those bombs from blowing up.”

Bruce sighed deeply in disappointment. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Everything else, we‘ll plan when we see what we‘re up against.”

Everyone agreed. 

Before they entered the open space around Yankee Stadium, Steve revved the motorcycle pulling away from the rest of the Avengers. Thor and Tony shot up high into the air until they were small bird sized dots in the sky. Natasha, Clint and Bruce ditched the sport car. Coming in slowly, they couldn’t see any Hydra agents in the perimeter of the stadium. Bruce quietly followed several feet behind Natasha and Clint. He wasn’t as silent as they were, but he was better than your average civilian. He’d long ago explained he’d been getting training from Coulson just in case he couldn’t rely on using the Hulk.

Over the earpiece they heard Steve calling out Baron Zemo.

In the next second they ran into a small squad of five Hydra agents. Natasha and Clint instantly reacted. They hit, punched and knocked out four of them in less than two seconds. The last man stood before them as he declared, “If one head is cut off, two more--urk.”

Clint tightened his hand around the man’s throat. “Now, now, let‘s not start that nonsense.” He smiled widely but his expression was completely unfriendly. “Why don‘t you tell me what you and your buddies are doing here, Bob. Do you mind if I call you Bob? You look like a Bob to me.”

The Hydra agent gurgled, and his hands clutched at Clint’s wrist. Clint slowly released his grip until the man could breathe.

“Now, Bob, you _will_ tell me everything you know,” Clint continued mockingly cheerful. “Because if you don‘t? You’ll have to answer to _her._ ”

Behind Clint’s shoulder, Natasha stared unblinkingly at the Hydra agent. Under her gaze the man damn near melted into a fearful puddle. Bruce shot them both an impressed look. Fully intimidated by Natasha‘s unwavering stare, their prisoner began talking. 

The six hostages were being kept in the stadium, down on the baseball diamond. Hydra had set up a platform and made them stand on it. Six volunteer Hydra agents had chosen to hold dead-man detonators, exactly as they’d seen on the video stream. What they hadn’t seen were the pressure plates under the feet of the hostages. The moment they moved off them another bomb --hidden under the platform-- would explode, taking out not only the hostages but also their rescuers.

“Thank you, Bob,” Clint said distractedly, as he considered the new information. Natasha snapped out a stiff hand and hit the Hydra agent on the side of his head knocking him unconscious. She swiftly secured his arms legs with a zip ties before tying up the rest of the knocked-out Hydra agents.

“Bruce, could you fill in the rest of the team?” Natasha said quietly. She tilted her head having heard a noise. Clint mimicked her and caught the slight scrape of rubber against concrete. 

Natasha stalked away silently. Clint followed after her just as quietly. Behind them, Bruce quickly talked into his earpiece although he kept his voice low. It took them about ten minutes to thoroughly immobilize the Hydra agents guarding the perimeter. They’d also found a groups of guards for the Yankee Museum tied up in one of the locker rooms. They released them too, and left Bruce to escort them out of the stadium.

In the meantime, Tony exclaimed that he’d come up with a bright idea and he’d rushed back to Stark Tower with Thor without filling them in. By the time he’d gotten back. Clint and Natasha found hiding spots which let them look down to the platform. Clint had picked the area above the Grandstands on the top deck supported by the white painted frieze. He found place to crouch behind the lighting with the best line of sight down to the Hydra agents and the hostages, while Natasha slinked down to the green from an angle which had her coming down to the right of first base. The platform was smack down on second base and facing home plate. From his vantage point not only could Clint track Natasha’s movement while she remained completely unseen by Hydra, he also had a damn good view of the fight between Steve and Zemo taking place over the pitcher’s mound.

Steve was fighting with his shield, taking the blows of a sword --a saber-- as he deliberately stayed on the defense. Zemo was slashing at him one moment then trying to run him through on the next. Only Steve’s superior reflexes kept him from getting cut. To Clint’s surprise, Zemo was moving almost as fast Steve and he didn’t think it was because he’d trained himself to be in such great shape. There was a grace and power in Zemo’s footwork that echoed how Captain America moved in battle. A speed and power that wasn’t human possible unless augmented by something unnatural, like the Super-Soldier Serum.

But that wasn’t possible… was it?

Clint pushed back his questions to the back of his head and focused on Natasha and the hostages.

“Hey, how‘s it going Natasha?” he asked.

“I’m close, but nowhere near enough to take out all the guards without setting off one of the bombs. And if one goes….”

“They all go, yeah.” 

“I think I have that covered, well… Thor too,” Tony cut in cheerfully. “I just had to pick up a few things. Thor! Be ready to catch me just like I said.”

“What are you doing, Stark?” Natasha asked, with tiny thread of concern in her voice. The line remained quiet.

The silence worried Clint. Tony never held back the chance to talk, much less show off. Clint looked up and high in the air, he caught the red and gold shine of the Iron Man armor as it fell. Barely five feet above him with his cape snapping rapidly from the speed of their descent was Thor. He didn’t even have Mjölnir out. 

What the hell were they doing? 

Less than 100 feet up, a blue light pulsed from Iron Man’s hands. It expanded in a nimbus of light which lit up the entire stadium for a second, even under the afternoon sun. The hostages cried out, cringed and shouted in their native tongues. The Hydra agents looked up. Clint’s earpiece popped with static and then died. He couldn’t hear his teammates’ breathing anymore, which was a sound he was so used to that he automatically tuned it out.

Zemo shouted furious orders at the Hydra agents which Clint couldn’t catch, but he got the gist. Kill the hostages.

“Natasha? Tony? Thor? Bruce?” Clint asked urgently. He got nothing from the earpiece and he could see the Hydra agents salute. They loudly shouted ‘Hail Hydra!’ and pressed down on the detonators.

Nothing happened. 

At once Natasha ran out of her hiding spot and Clint shot arrow, after arrow, after arrow, as fast as his reflexes allowed him to move. Six arrows cut through the air and within a second every member of Hydra nearest to the hostages had a shaft in their chests, right in their hearts. By the time the last Hydra hit the platform floor; Natasha had taken down the guards on the grass and was cutting the hostages free of the bombs. Clint ran down from the top deck, hitting the concrete stairs as fast as he dared. 

He mentally swore as he also saw Zemo pull a German Luger out of his coat, and begin shooting at the hostages. Natasha tackled them flat. At once Steve shouted in anger and threw the shield at Zemo’s hand. It hit Zemo’s wrist with a loud crack of breaking bones, Zemo cried out in surprise and pain as he dropped the gun before he turned and bolted. 

Clint blinked in surprise, and tried to shoot Zemo down, but the man was too fast and the angle of his shot was all wrong. “Shit,” he hissed.

“Black Widow, are you alright?” Steve shouted. Natasha nodded and hand-signaled her status as unharmed to Clint.

Clint looked over to see Thor holding Iron Man in a grip around his waist. Thor’s face was tight with strain, and his right hand held Mjölnir above his head which slowed down their descent. They ended up on the green grass of the infield in front of the platform where the rescued hostages where being coaxed by Natasha to get off the platform. Clint quickly made it down the long stairs, and leapt over the dividing wall. By the time he joined the rest of his teammates, Tony’s helmet was up and he was grinning smugly at Steve. 

“I knew that would work!” he crowed.

“What did you do?” Natasha asked.

“Small EMP generator,” Tony grinned. “It totally knocked out JARVIS and the suit, but it was worth it since it took out all the bombs too.”

“And our comms,” Clint added. 

“Which is why you were falling,” Steve said, softly. His eyes were wide. “You could‘ve been hurt!”

“Nah, I had Thor ready to catch me. By the way, thanks, big guy!”

“Any time you have need of my assistance, my Iron Armored friend, I will provide it!” Thor grinned, slapping Tony hard on the back. Even with the Iron Man suit, Tony winced.

“What happened with Zemo?” Tony asked. 

“He got away,” Steve admitted. 

“That wouldn‘t have happened if we had SHIELD in place,” Natasha pointed out. Clint grimaced by also voiced his reluctant agreement. 

Steve nodded soberly. “Next time, we‘ll call them beforehand.”

“You’d better.” They all turned to see Nick Fury glowering at them. Ten SHIELD agents fanned out behind him in their field uniforms. Fury made a sharp hand movement and the agents spread out, three of them broke off and checked over the hostages. “I just found Dr. Banner knocked out near Gate 4. Do one of you want to tell me why none of my dammed radios work?”

The next hour the Avengers spent getting chewed out by Nick Fury, Clint couldn’t help but think that Zemo getting away, with all the Hydra agents that had been knocked out earlier, wouldn’t have happened if they still had Coulson as their SHIELD liaison. Damn Loki.  
*-*-*-*

One week after rescuing the diplomats, Clint ran into Coulson on the streets of New York. Literally ran right into him.

Clint had been distracted all day and he decided to go out for a jog to work out his stress since running on a treadmill didn‘t really do it for him. The day before the NYPD had requested his help specifically in dealing with a hostage situation at a bank. It wasn‘t the first time the police wanted his special brand of skills and it wouldn‘t be the last. And it had ended well by SHIELD standards; no one was killed although one the hostages had been shot. A non-lethal hit to the shoulder and the man had only been saved from getting hit in the chest by Clint’s extraordinary reflexes so the NYPD had been happy with him but to Clint it hadn’t been good enough. No one should have been hurt at all. If he’d just been faster… So Clint turned it over and over in his mind trying to find the specific scenario which would have kept every civilian unharmed.

So he wasn’t really concentrating on his surroundings which was right when he turned a corner and ran straight into Coulson coming out of a café just a few steps later.

“Hmm, you shouldn‘t think so hard you don‘t watch where you‘re going,” Coulson said with a wry smile; the coffee paper cup in his hand had spilled on the back of his hand even through the white plastic lid. Coulson licked away the spill then gave Clint a cool, disinterested look. And most devastatingly of all was the lack of recognition in his green eyes. “At the very least it‘ll save you from paying my dry-cleaning.” Then Coulson side-stepped him and walked briskly down the street and around the corner at the light.

Clint was stunned in place. He completely froze in a way he never had before even when he’d been new to shooting at and killing people. “Wait,” he managed to whisper out of a dry throat before he shook himself and broke into a flat out run, retracing his steps. “Wait! Coulson!” Clint shouted. “Coulson! Phil!” 

The second Clint made it around the corner he slowed to a stop as he cast his gaze for a glimpse --any glimpse!-- of a familiar profile but Coulson wasn’t anywhere. Clint immediately took off again and looked into every office and every business which lined the street. For an hour Clint scoured the area in an ever increasing spiral search pattern. And still no Coulson. 

So Clint called up his team.

“Where is he?” Tony asked excitedly, as he flipped open the Iron Man visor before he’d even fully finished landing next to Clint on the sidewalk.

“He‘s not here,” Clint said grimly.

Steve and Natasha arrived just a few seconds later, the low growl of a highly modified motorcycle heralding their arrival. Natasha was driving the cycle which would’ve normally made Clint tease Steve over Captain America being forced to sit in the bitch seat on his own bike but he couldn’t even muster up a twitch of his lips.

“You said he was here!” Tony protested. 

“Yeah, ‘was’ as in past tense,” Clint scowled. His shoulders hunched up defensively. “I lost him, okay.”

“How could you--”

“Enough, Tony,” Steve said firmly. Tony grumbled but for once he listened. Steve glanced at the steadily growing crowd of curious civilians and looked pointedly at Tony. He was the only one who stood out in his Iron Man suit since Steve, Clint and Natasha were in civvies.

Tony rolled his eyes, and turned to the people with a bright grin. “Hey everyone! Sorry, nothing special is going on we‘re just testing my new jet boots. Want to see? What do you guys think about rocket-powered roller blades? I‘ve been thinking they‘d be awesome.”

As the crowed ‘Oohed’, ‘Aahed’ and laughed over Tony‘s showmanship, Steve questioned Clint.

“I swear I was only 10 maybe 15 seconds behind him, that‘s all, I shouldn‘t have lost him,” Clint said quietly.

“Unless it involved magic,” Natasha pointed out. Instead of her usual coolly distant expression she scowled darkly as she looked around the area, making a couple bystanders flinch away.

“She‘s right, Clint. Your eyes are too good. It had to be magic.”

Clint nodded slowly. That explanation did make sense and it made him feel a little better that his teammates didn‘t blame him for losing Coulson, but only a little. “Then it means Loki was nearby. Phil can‘t do magic on his own.” It took Steve blinking at him and Natasha’s small smirk for Clint to realize he’d slipped up and called Coulson by his first name. He mentally grimaced; well he was bound to screw up. He’d been calling him Phil in his head on and off for weeks now. 

“If Loki‘s around then we need to call Fury,” Steve said.

Clint bit back an acidic reply that Steve didn’t deserve and he nodded in reluctant agreement. No matter how unfriendly he was still feeling towards Fury the Avengers would need SHIELD on hand if Loki showed up if only to prevent casualties. As Steve called up SHIELD on his cell phone, Natasha gently touched Clint’s hand with her deadly but delicate looking fingers.

“You know the worse thing?” he sighed. “I don‘t think he recognized me. It was like he didn‘t remember me at all.” Natasha’s hand tightened up around his fingers. Normally, Clint would be worried about getting his hand crushed considering he‘s seen her do that to people before but he honestly didn‘t care right then. “I think Thor was right all along. We‘re never getting him back.” The burst of red pain against the side of head made him yelp and try to jerk away but Natasha’s grip on him reeled him back toward her. 

“Now you listen to me, Clinton Francis Barton,” she said her voice low and dangerous. “Do you honestly believe Coulson would’ve given up if it was one of us who‘d been taken?”

“No,” Clint said, without hesitation. Coulson would’ve found a loophole in the deal or tracked them down himself. He’d have done something clever and unexpected and gotten them out of the enemy‘s clutches. He’d always managed it in the past for, not only Clint and Natasha, but also for the entire Avengers team and good number of SHIELD agents up to and including Nick Fury. Natasha was right. There was no reason to stop now. It made him feel a lot better that she thought so, Natasha was never one to hold onto hopeless causes, she was too damned practical. “That hurt you know!” he whined, rubbing at his head ruefully.

Natasha gave him a familiar expression which silently told him that he’d deserved it before she finally released his hand. “Say such a thing again, Clint and I‘ll give you a real reason to complain.”

He whined a bit more before he shoulder bumped her in gratitude. He didn’t say it aloud but if he started feeling that hopeless again then he’d want her to hit him. She understood. Anyway if he said his thanks out loud then he would lose all his rights to complain at her for hurting him.

“So… Phil?”

“It’s not what you think,” Clint said quickly.

The amused and knowing expression on her face made him shut up and blush.  
*-*-*-*

It took longer than it should have for a few SHIELD agents to show up and coordinate a search of the office buildings which Clint had told them was a waste of time but the senior agent in charge didn’t listen to him. Their only smart idea was to confiscate any footage caught by nearby security cameras which weren’t tied in to the city’s CCTV. It was footage they sent to the Avengers nearly 24 hours later. Not that it mattered since Tony hacked SHIELD and copied those files off their server.

It was disconcerting to see himself run into Phil and freeze before turning to chase him down because it proved to him that his time sense had been spectacularly off. It had taken about seven seconds for him to go from frozen stiff to running after Phil _and_ he’d still managed to miss him.

“It had to be magic,” Bruce murmured. He tapped a pen against his mouth as he studied the large flat screen TV that Tony was using as a monitor for them so they could all see it clearly. “And he didn‘t recognize _you_?” 

Clint shook his head. 

“It speaks of magic indeed,” Thor said, as he gripped Mjölnir’s handle firmly. “To enchant a man‘s mind until he can no longer recognize a comrade… it is similar combat magic Loki has used in the past to confuse the mind of an enemy so they could no longer distinguish friend from foe.”

They all absorbed the declaration in silence.

“Then if Loki uses him against us, he won‘t hold back. He‘ll see us as his enemy,” Steve said softly.

“And we all now how Coulson deals with enemies,” Tony said, grimacing. “Aaargh!” He ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “I mean tazing is one thing and a bullet is another. We’ll need to take him down. ”

“No!” Clint snapped, jumping to feet from the armchair he’d been sitting on. “I‘m not hurting Phil and I‘m not letting any of you do it either!”

“No one said anything about hurting him,” Steve said gently. Tony said ‘Phil’ to Natasha in sotto voice and earned himself a coolly raised eyebrow. “We want him back. But we have to be realistic about the danger he poses.” Since Tony got nothing from Natasha, he turned to Bruce and repeated ‘Phil?’ but Bruce shrugged. Steve sighed in mild exasperation, “Phil is Agent Coulson‘s first name, Tony.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know that?” He pointed at Clint. “I‘m just wondering why the Arrow-Wonder here isn’t calling him Coulson like he always did before. I didn‘t think Coulson let anyone call him by his first name.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Actually, I heard a rumor that he‘d sent the last agent to call him Phil without his permission to an indefinite security post at McMurdo in Antarctica. So… something you want to tell us, Clint?”

Clint could easily ignore the questioning expression on Tony’s face although Bruce’s curious one was harder and Thor’s openly honest was practically impossible.

“My friend, do you hold within you tender affections for our stolen comrade?” Thor asked eagerly, leaning across Bruce towards Clint. 

The blush which crawled up Clint’s cheeks felt like an intense second-degree burn. Jesus, he’d thought he’d lost the ability to blush like that years ago.

“Really?” Tony asked in disbelief. “Coulson?”

“Tony…” Steve said, warningly. “Don’t start.”

Tony opened his mouth to protest but a quelling look from practically every Avenger made him sit back with crossed arms as he grumbled over how he was never allowed to have any fun. The expectant expression on his friends’ faces finally broke down Clint‘s reluctance. 

“Yeah,” Clint whispered his voice so low everyone leaned forward to hear it.

“What was that?” Tony asked. Ever the asshole he put cupped a hand behind his ear and leaned closer to Clint. “Could you repeat that? I don’t think I heard that right. I could’ve sworn you just admitted to like-liking Coulson.”

Clint glared. “You know you‘re a dick, right Stark?”

Tony’s smug grin made Clint’s fingers itch for his bow and quiver. “Well when people are talking about me and the word dick the context is a lot--”

“Enough, Tony,” Steve interrupted, his cheeks flushing pink. 

“I am most pleased my friend that your heart beats for Phil, Son of Coul!” Thor declared, with a wide smile. “For love among warriors is truly the most pure!”

Clint nearly choked on a protest. He never said anything about his heart or love.

“Whoa, whoa,” Tony said. “Who said anything about love? Maybe Clint‘s just got bad case of lust.” Tony’s expression went strange. “Oh God, I just thought about Coulson and sex at once. My brain is hurting. Quick, someone get me a drink.”

“Does the Son of Coul return your feelings?” Thor asked in all seriousness. Everyone ignored Tony‘s complaints.

Clint buried his face in his hands and groaned in misery. He‘d never wanted to talk about this. Ever. “I didn‘t even know how I felt until--until after it was too late.” Clint looked up and narrowed his eyes at Thor in suspicion. “Why are you asking?”

Thor stared back and then looked all the rest of the Avengers who were eying him with curiosity. 

“Clint has a point Thor, why are you asking?” Steve asked.

“I have to return to Asgard in order to ask my mother but if Clint had a stronger claim to the Son of Coul’s heart then Loki would have no choice but to release him from his servitude.”

The sliver of hope Clint felt actually hurt, but nothing was ever so easy.

“But how?” Bruce asked. “Clint just said he didn‘t even realize how he felt until after Loki took Coulson away. How would we know if Coulson returned those feelings?”

“There‘s no guarantee,” Natasha agreed. 

“It doesn’t matter what he felt before,” Clint said harshly. “He didn‘t recognize me, remember? Right now he doesn‘t feel anything for me. I‘m a total stranger.” He rubbed at his face. “If anything I‘m the enemy now, so that plan would never work.”

His reality check quieted everyone down for several minutes until Tony broke the silence. “Thor, do you know if the spell which changed Coulson‘s loyalties changed anything else about him?” he asked thoughtfully, distracted from his whimpers for alcohol. 

“I‘m uncertain, although I doubt my brother would wish to change too much of his personality if he chose the Son of Coul for his loyalty,” Thor said. “I will ask my mother.”

“Could you ask her something for me too?” Bruce asked. “Because now I‘m wondering if Clint‘s feelings could be why he was able to find Coulson when no one else has been able to.”

Clint straightened in his seat. “What do you mean?”

“Well… we all know every agent in SHIELD has been ordered to keep an eye out for anyone fitting Coulson’s description,” Bruce explained. “But I also know from the gossip in the labs that Fury’s sent out his picture to every government agency in existence, including law enforcement and the military and even a few international agencies. So there are thousands of people keeping an eye open for him and hundreds of them are right here in New York City.” Clint shot him an impatient look. Bruce cleared his throat. “It just made me wonder if whatever magic was keeping Coulson hidden away from us wasn‘t able to stand up to Clint‘s emotions. And if we could use Clint to find him again.”

“That’s an interesting idea,” Tony said, and from the way he eyed Clint, it made him think that Tony was contemplating how to turn him into a Coulson-detector. Hell, if Tony figured out a way, he’d volunteer to be his lab rat. 

Thor’s blue eyes damn near glowed with excitement as he jumped enthusiastically to his feet. “I will go to Jane and return to Asgard to ask at once!”

“Wait, Thor! I have questions too,” Steve protested but Thor was already out the door. They all heard the by now familiar crackle of Mjölnir‘s power as Thor flew off from the roof. Steve sighed in exasperation. Tony clasped him on the shoulder, and then threw his arm around Steve’s broad shoulders for extra reassurance.

“So until our thunderous godly friend gets back with answers to our questions, I have my own question I want an answer to,” Tony said cheerfully. He raised his eyebrows at Clint. “Seriously? Coulson?”

Clint glared at Tony. Tony smirked right back at him. He looked unfazed as Clint tried to kill him with his eyes.

“I’d sleep with Agent Coulson,” Natasha said lightly, making Tony’s jaw drop. 

Clint redirected his glare to her. “Hey,” he protested. “Dibs!”

The tiny pout on Natasha’s lips made Clint laugh while Tony grumbled over how his team mates had no taste and the Avengers were full of crazy people. The hurt look on Steve’s face combined with his sad blue eyes made Tony backpedal so hard that in his distraction he didn’t realize that Captain America was pulling his leg until after he’d fervently apologized and Bruce wasn’t able to hold back his laughter anymore.

His team was going to get Phil back. This wasn’t just a belief anymore. Clint knew it. They would. Loki didn’t stand a chance. The Avengers had beaten Loki before; then they hadn’t been half the cohesive and amazing team that they were now. He ignored the niggling doubtful voice which whispered _but he has Phil Coulson on his side._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just adding that my characterization of Hill may end up being OOC, I'm basing it on Civil War!Hill which is the first time I met her. It made an impression.


	3. Chapter 3

Waiting for Thor to return from Asgard was an exercise in agonized patience. Not even standing still for hours on end waiting for the go ahead confirmation to take the shot had ever tested Clint’s fortitude so much. So the next day, bright and early, Clint left Stark Tower and spent half the day wandering around the streets in the hope he’d see Phil again. It didn’t work, of course, and then his luck got worse when A.I.M. --the new terrorist group of the year with the ridiculous name of Advanced Idea Mechanics-- attacked a series of banks on Broadway while Clint was on the opposite side of Central Park on 1st near the U.N. Headquarters. By the time he answered Steve’s call to assemble, the team had already taken down all the attackers, and even SHIELD had shown up to taken the A.I.M. operatives in their beehive-like helmets into custody. 

Of course it was then that Clint saw Phil Coulson again. He was wearing another black suit virtually identical to ones he’d always worn with the only marked difference being his striped tie was green and gold instead of his usual tie colors of blues and grays. Clint managed not to freeze up again although he felt his heart skip several beats. He kept his eyes on Phil and slowly pressed through the crowd of civilians who were taking pictures with their phones of the wrecked cars, shattered glass windows, cuffed bad guys and the Avengers.

Clint had spent all night thinking about how he’d react, on what he’d say and do, once he saw Phil again. Only now the words were bitter ashes in his mouth. He’d tried to think of it from Phil’s point-of-view, what did one say to an attractive stranger you happened to run into on the street again?

“So come here often?” Clint said, and instantly wished he’d gone with something a lot less cliché maybe he should’ve asked Tony for help… no. He’d never forgive himself. 

Phil tensed infinitesimally. If Clint hadn’t known the man so well he wouldn’t even have seen the ripple of muscles preparing to fight. Clint plunged on like he hadn‘t noticed. “At least I didn‘t run into you this time.”

“If you‘re following me, you should know I‘m armed and I won‘t hesitate to use deadly force,” Phil said coolly. He didn’t turn from watching the SHIELD agents and the Avengers. Clint followed his line of sight to see Iron Man chatting with the crowd. Tony had even managed to drag Steve over to be Captain America for the news cameras, something Steve always wiggled out of doing as much as possible. Phil watched them for a couple of seconds before he spun neatly on his heel and walked away. Clint followed right behind him, determined not to lose him and not willing to take the chance to call for his teammates in case he drove Phil away. He still hadn’t figured out how Phil had vanished on him before and he didn’t want to repeat his mistake.

“I do admire a man with a fully loaded weapon,” Clint said with a small grin. He wasn’t able to resist flirting with Phil. He blamed it on his delight at actually getting to see him and knowing from the evidence of his own eyes that Phil was alive, and healthy, and in one piece even after all this time in Loki’s hands. Clint couldn’t spot any evidence of injuries, old or new. The short glimpse he’d gotten before hadn’t given him enough time to check him over but now he could take him time and drink him in. As he walked he had to force his breathing to remain even as the relief that his silent nightmares were laid to rest or at least muted to near inaudible murmurs hit him like a wrecking ball. 

When they were a good three blocks away, Phil stopped and turned to him with a dangerous glint in his eyes which normally would have made Clint hold off on pushing his teasing further… but with this man, a man who didn’t remember him but whom Clint still _wanted_ … it was as if Clint had lost all his verbal filters. 

“I wouldn‘t mind if you wanted to show it to me,” Clint said, lightly. He reminded himself of how dangerous Phil could be, and how more than one enemy had been surprised when he went on the offensive, so he couldn’t act like Phil _knew_ and trusted him. So he prudently stayed out of arms reach. “We could get to know each other.”

“I didn‘t recognize you before but I do know. You’re Clinton Francis Barton also known as Hawkeye, member of the Avengers Initiative,” Phil said flatly. “We don‘t need to get to know each other.”

“That’s me, although I prefer to go by Clint,” Clint said quietly. “And I know you too: Phil Coulson, Agent of SHIELD.” 

The flash of anger in Phil’s green eyes made Clint take a reflexive step away before he forced himself to stop.

“I am not an agent of SHIELD. My loyalties are to my prince,” Phil said stiffly. He started walking away again.

“Loki? Loki‘s not your prince, Coulson! You were born in the US, not in Asgard!” Clint said as he followed, desperate to get through to him. Phil’s shoulders tensed and he lengthened his stride. Clint sped up and reached for him. Clint didn’t get to touch him before Phil ducked his hand and grabbed him by the shirt, slamming him against the side of a white delivery truck which was parked on the street. Clint deliberately suppressed his own instinctive reaction to break free, after all he didn’t want to break Phil’s arm just to avoid a bit of bruising and let himself be pinned.

A nearby elderly couple startled and quickly walked away from them. 

“If you‘re trying to suborn me, it won‘t work. I won‘t leave him,” Phil said harshly. The unfamiliar green of his eyes bore into Clint like drills although his words hurt him more. “I will follow his orders until the day I die.” Clint choked more from his fear than from Phil’s forearm pressing firmly on his throat. Phil smiled humorlessly. “Nothing you say will change my mind.”

“I‘m not going to stop,” Clint said, forcing the words out in a voice that was ragged but firm. He reached out and cupped Phil’s cheeks with his hands. Phil tried to jerk away but Clint had a grip which he couldn’t escape not with the strength Clint had in his fingers. “You don‘t belong to Loki.” He leaned close enough for Phil’s breath to feel warm against his mouth. The pressure against his throat slackened. “He didn‘t earn your loyalty, he stole it away. He stole _you_ away. You don‘t belong with him.”

“I don‘t believe you,” Phil said coolly then he shoved him back hard. Clint hit the truck again with a burst of pain at the back of his head but he didn’t let it stop him. He surged forward and swept a leg at Phil’s knees. 

“You belong with us,” Clint said desperately.

Phil leapt neatly to avoid it. Clint slid past a block, mentally thanking Natasha for all the extra ass-kicking she’d been dishing out lately because it gave his fighting skills an extra sharp edge. He took a glancing punch to his ribs which he ignored as much as he caught Phil’s arm to reel him in. Clint wasn’t even thinking on what he’d do next.

The kiss was no more than a quick brush of their lips but it halted the fight as they stared at each other with wide eyes. Clint in astonishment that he’d actually managed to get so close and Phil in pure surprise. The second that it sunk in, Clint leaned forward for another, his heart pounding away delight and desire. This is what he wanted, what he hadn’t even known he craved until he no longer had access to Phil whenever he wanted to see him.

Phil stumbled back before Clint could get close enough to try for a real kiss --a deep, wet and dirty one-- and he groaned in protest. He reached for him again but Phil stepped back even further out of reach. 

“No,” he said, but to Clint’s ears it didn’t sound as certain. He stopped moving anyway. Phil‘s expression firmed and he glared at Clint. “No, you’re an enemy to my prince. I won‘t be tricked by such an obvious trap.”

Clint didn’t have the time to protest when Phil slid back his suit jacket to touch his belt buckle. In that moment Clint saw the gold flat square was engraved with a pair of curving horns which echoed the helmet Loki sometimes wore before the buckle glowed green and Coulson soundlessly vanished.

He was gone. Just like that, Clint had lost Phil again.

“Damn it, damn it. Goddammit!” Clint shouted. He snarled with wordless anger and barely restrained his impulse to punch the truck. He clenched and unclenched his hands as he breathed for control of his temper. As soon as he was certain the next words out of his mouth weren’t going to be a blue streak of profanity he took out his phone out and called Natasha.

He rather felt like he needed to get his ass kicked for screwing up so fucking much.  
*-*-*-*

Clint woke up abruptly while it was still the middle of the night. He thought his aching bruises were to blame for his interrupted sleep and he sat up on his bed to find some painkillers. He clicked on the lamp on the side table, and opened up the drawer to fish out the orange prescription bottle of Vicodin he hadn’t finished from when his arm was broken.

“You won‘t be able to get him back, no matter how hard you try.”

Clint grabbed his gun from under his pillow, flipped off the safety and aimed it at Loki in one nearly inhumanly fast movement.

Loki had his back to him as he looked at a painting of a California seashore cliff Clint hadn’t gotten around from removing from his room. Tony’s taste in art wasn’t bad but it wasn’t exactly relaxing either. Knowing that a painting worth a couple hundred thousand dollars was a few feet away made Clint feel nervous from thinking he’d damage it or it made his fingers itch for his bow and arrows on those days Tony acted like more of a bastard than usual.

“So… you came to deliver this message in person? I’m touched,” Clint said wryly. He got up on his knees and braced himself for the recoil. He silently wondered why in the hell the alarms weren’t going off. Their lack meant Clint was on his own in dealing with Loki.

“It‘s a warning,” Loki said, turning to face Clint. He was back in his high-end suit but instead of the usual black tie he wore one almost identical to the tie Clint had seen on Phil only it fit the more expensive cut of his suit.

The jealousy which burned in Clint’s chest was so unexpected he almost let the barrel sights drop away from Loki in his surprise at his own reaction. Loki followed his gaze with a flicker of coldly amused eyes. Clint tensed as Loki slid his leather gloved hand down his chest, right over the tie. The possessiveness in the god‘s gesture made Clint grit his teeth until his jaw throbbed with pain. 

“Why did you take him?” Clint asked angrily. “Why him?” Loki’s slight smile made Clint want to shoot him --repeatedly-- in the face. His fingers itched for him to fire.

“If Nick Fury hadn‘t restricted my selection I wouldn‘t have considered him at all,” Loki said coolly. “And if _Jane Foster_ was a member of SHIELD I would have chosen her. Thor’s reaction…” Loki’s cruel laugh made ice crawl up Clint’s spine as he too pictured the devastation Thor would‘ve felt. “Phil Coulson merely happened to have the misfortune of being the only SHIELD agent to be held in such high esteem by Thor and rest of you annoying mortals.”

“Then give him back; we‘ve suffered. If that‘s what you wanted then you got it,” Clint said bitterly. “You don‘t need to keep him.”

Loki tilted his head as he examined Clint. He nodded in contemptuous agreement. “It had been my initial plan to release him. Seeing how you all reacted to his lack of memory would have been _amusing._ But…” the softening in Loki’s expression made unease and worry curl up in his chest, making it difficult to inhale. “But there is great appeal in having at my side an intelligent warrior who harbors no ulterior motives and whose only desire is to _please_ me. Even if he is only a mortal.”

Jesus, if Clint thought he’d been feeling jealous before then he had no words for the emotion which threatened to drown him now. Loki must have read it on his face because the smile spreading across his lips was wide and triumphant. Clint couldn’t ignore it and he squeezed the trigger of the gun without a second thought, running on impulse and anger. The empty click was loud in his room, but nowhere near as loud as the gunshot he’d expected.

“His heart is in my possession,” Loki continued, his eyes shinning with satisfaction at Clint‘s expression at the failed shot. “And no matter how much you wish it otherwise it will remain **mine.** ”

“You bastard!” Clint dropped the gun on the covers and lunged out of his bed towards Loki, who stepped back into the deeper shadows of his bedroom and vanished with a mocking laugh. As soon as he was gone Stark Tower’s internal security began blaring sirens in alarm.

“Too fucking late, JARVIS,” Clint grumbled, crouched near the floor where Loki disappeared. There wasn’t anything different about this part of the room than there had been before. Wherever Loki had gone there was no way for Clint to chase him no matter how badly he wanted to. Damn it.

“My apologies, sir,” the A.I. said stiffly, actually sounding embarrassed. “I was unable to react.”

“I _hate_ magic!”  
*-*-*-*

Clint wasn’t at all surprised when the next person to show up at Stark Tower to talk to him about Phil Coulson turned out to be Nick Fury. He would have considered it a terrible way to begin his morning if he hadn’t had to deal with Loki first thing.

“So Loki was here to talk to you about Coulson,” Fury said from where he loomed by the entrance to the kitchen. He looked like a menacing bird-of-prey even with the wide security glass windows pouring tons of golden sunlight into the large kitchen outfitted with a lot of chrome; a bird with an unapologetic taste for black leather.

Clint pushed away his bowl of granola with a grimace. His appetite was gone. “Yeah.”

“What did he have say about him?” 

Clint crossed his arms and he glared at Fury. “What does it matter to you? He‘s not one of your agents anymore. You gave him away, remember? Why do you give a damn?”

Fury’s nostrils flared as he walked closer to Clint. “Coulson is more than a subordinate. He‘s a friend, I want him back more than you do!”

Stubbornly, Clint raised his chin. “I doubt that.”

“I‘ve known Phil Coulson before there even was a SHIELD. He was the first man to join up with me,” Fury snorted. “Whatever crush you have for Coulson doesn‘t beat out over twenty years of friendship.” Clint and Fury exchanged glares until Clint looked away. Fury sighed in irritation and sat on the chair across from him. “What did Loki tell you?” he asked gruffly. “Is there any chance to get him back at all?”

There was a quiet desperation in Fury’s voice which honestly surprised Clint. It made him thaw nearly against his will and he filled Fury in on everything. His reaction to learning Coulson didn’t remember them was what made Clint think that maybe the man really was missing Coulson for more reasons than his ability to ride herd on the Avengers and his talent for turning in perfect reports. 

“Hmm, Hill was wondering why Thor returned to Asgard without first putting in a request for leave,” Fury said. 

“You‘ve got to convince her that we‘re not a military force,” Clint groaned. “She keeps treating us like we‘re raw recruits.”

“It‘s her background showing through,” Fury said, amused. “She’s a Marine. And she hasn‘t quiet gotten over how everyone, with the exception of the Captain, isn‘t military. She lobbied hard for Colonel Rhodes to join the Avengers Initiative as War Machine instead of Iron Man.”

“Ah, that solves that mystery,” Bruce said, as he entered the kitchen. He squinted at Fury and nodded greeting at Clint before he headed for the large chrome refrigerator that wouldn’t have been out of place in a busy restaurant. Thor’s appetite regularly kept it half-empty. “I‘d wondered why she had such a low opinion of all of us.”

“We’ve had this talk before, Dr. Banner. Hill stays.”

“At least until we get Agent Coulson back, right?” Bruce said half his body in the fridge.

“If we can find out what made Loki decide he needed to warn off Barton,” Fury agreed. He stared hard at Clint. “Whatever you’re doing: keep it up.”

“I‘m not planning on stopping until I get him back,” Clint said quietly, letting Fury see his determination. 

Fury stood up, the wooden chair scrapping lightly against the tiled floor. “Good. Hill has standing orders that SHIELD is to assist you with whatever request you need to fulfill this mission.”

Fury had just made it to the door when Tony popped in from where he‘d been eavesdropping in the hallway. Clint eyed him without surprise. Tony wasn‘t exactly subtle. “Hey! How come I never get missions to sex people up?’

“Not on your life,” Fury said flatly as he passed him.  
*-*-*-*

No matter what Tony Stark thought about Clint’s new so-called mission, he wasn’t getting to have sex with Phil. Hell, he couldn’t even find the man for the next two days. Clint was relieved when Thor came back from Asgard with answers because it took the edge off his frustration and the news he’d brought back reassured them all that there was a real chance to get Phil out of Loki‘s clutches.

Frigga, Thor’s mother, had confirmed the spells used on Phil from the descriptions Clint had given; one was a spell to transfer loyalty and another to suppress memories. According to Frigga they were simple spells which normally would have been easy to break, but Fury’s agreement with Loki made everything infinitely more complicated. It strengthened the loyalty spell until it was nearly unbreakable but… the same spell didn’t touch the loyalties of loved one. Apparently, the person who’d developed the magic had been the wife of a warrior who didn’t want her husband ordered to fight at every whim of the king. It was this loophole which gave them the chance to get Phil back.

The only detail which made Clint uneasy was how the plan relied on him being able to change how Phil currently viewed him. Phil had to feel genuine affection for Clint in order for the spell’s loophole to work. With that affection Clint could weaken the absolute loyalty Phil held for Loki and convince him that there was something _wrong_ with his memories. Frigga had told Thor that the memory spell would break once Phil acknowledged that his memories where being manipulated. And there was a very good possibility that once Phil had his memories back he would return to them with the proof in his own head that belonged with the Avengers and not with Loki. 

Clint didn’t like that there was also the possibility that even with his memory returned Phil‘s loyalty to Loki could be so strong that he‘d choose to remain at Loki‘s side.

Frigga had even given Clint the perfect excuse to find and talk to Phil without him vanishing on him. She’d written a letter to Loki and she’d even sealed it with her personal emblem in golden wax which shimmered with white mother-of-pearl flakes. Thor explained to them that the letter was embedded with magic which would call to his brother and it would keep anyone from taking it from Clint against his will, even if Loki himself tried to steal it.

Frigga had also sent along her personal blessing and support, which honestly made Clint feel better. A goddess was on his side.

The magic in the letter was strong because less than an hour after stepping out of Stark Tower with it in an inner pocket of a leather jacket, Phil found him in Battery Park gazing over the harbor at the distant Statue of Liberty. The weather and the lateness of the hour kept the tourists away so it was quiet and relaxing with only a few people also enjoying the view.

“I‘ve been sent to pick up what you‘re carrying,” Phil said, as he stepped out of thin air to stop next to Clint.

“Jesus, don‘t do that,” Clint exclaimed, he got up from the instinctive defensive crouch he’d instantly dropped into and returned his knife to the hidden sheathe in his belt. Phil was holding a large coffee paper cup in his right hand. His other was tucked into his pant pocket. In acknowledgement of the cold temperature Phil wore a long woolen black coat over his usual outfit. The expression on his face was cool and unimpressed. “So Loki‘s using you as an errand boy now?” Clint asked as he kept himself under control from long experience but his relief at seeing Phil actually show up made his knees weak.

Phil’s expression hardened. “Barton,” he said warningly, not in the least bit amused. And the tone was so achingly familiar for a moment Clint could almost convince himself that Phil had never been taken away, that they were standing side-by-side for another reason other than Phil doing Loki‘s bidding.

Clint pulled out the letter from his jacket. It was written on thick paper even Clint’s uneducated eye, in matters regarding stationery, could tell was expensive and unique. It gave off a faint scent of sweet apples. It was rare paper, so much so that according to Thor, only the royal family in Asgard was allowed to use it since it was made from the trees which provided the golden apples of Idunn. Phil’s eyes flicked over to him and he held out his hand. Clint turned the letter around in his hands so Phil could see the wax seal impression highlighted by the flakes of iridescence even with the faint light of the setting sun. Then he returned it to his jacket.

“That’s for my prince,” Phil said mildly. 

“I know. It‘s my job to help deliver it,” Clint said, nodding. “But there‘s no time limit on when I have to. I can choose to give it to you now or later, whenever I want.”

“And you‘re not doing it now, because…?” Phil’s calm expression changed subtly as his mouth tightened in anger. “What is it you want?” he asked flatly. His expression was wary.

Seeing this expression on Phil’s face made the smooth delivery of his request trip on his tongue, and all the ways he’d thought up to ask Phil out became tangled and ruined. He choked. He had to inhale deeply to gather his wits into some semblance of order. “Coffee!” Clint blurted out. 

Phil raised his eyebrows at him and lifted his cup. 

Clint flushed. “No, I mean, you have to agree to meet me for coffee. Everyday.”

Phil narrowed his eyes, the shade of green darkening. “For how long?”

A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough if Clint didn’t get him back but that would be coming on too strong. “Until I call it off.”

“So indefinitely until you say otherwise,” Phil said dryly. Clint nodded slowly. “That‘s a rather high price for one letter.”

“I‘m pretty sure Loki‘s mother is going to want to send more. Their delivery is included.”

Phil looked away and up to where the top of Stark Tower was still visible from where they stood. Clint eyed him, and his guts twisted as he wondered if Coulson would agree. He had to agree. The entire planned hinged on it.

“I have conditions.”

Clint knew too well that Phil would be spooked if he got too excitement so he kept his reaction down to a short nod. “What sort of conditions?”

“It’s highly unlikely we’ll be able to meet everyday as I have my duties which take priority so I’ll contact you if I can‘t make it,” Phil said. He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a plain white card with a phone number on it. He handed it Clint. “And I expect the same if your duties draw you away.”

“That‘s reasonable,” Clint agreed. He memorized the number before he pulled out a pen from his pocket and scribbled his on number on the back. He held it out to Phil, who glanced at it before he tucked the card away.

“And any letters which you have in the future you’ll pass over _without_ additional demands,” Phil said firmly. “Also, I will pick the café and I‘ll let you know the location an hour before we meet. If I see traps not only will I not show up, the entire deal is off, permanently. But you'll still have to deliver any additional letters.”

“Okay,” Clint agreed, and mentally kissed away any plans to grab Phil and hide him from Loki. It had been brought up as a possibility when his team had been working on various scenarios including snatching him and delivering him to Frigga in Asgard. It figured Agent Coulson wouldn’t let himself fall into such an obvious trap so Clint wasn’t exactly surprised by his stipulation.

“And finally, you will keep your opinions about my prince to yourself,” Phil said, his voice heavy with threat. “I could care less what you think of me.” Clint winced. “But you will _not_ insult him in my hearing. Is that clear?”

Clint bit back an automatic ‘Yes, sir.’ because he knew Phil would think he was mocking him when his reaction was the exact opposite. “That‘s it? No orders that I don‘t touch your or try to kiss you?”

“Mr. Barton, whatever makes you think I‘m not capable of stopping you on my own?” Phil asked coolly.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” Clint said hastily. He pulled out the letter again and held it out to Phil who took it gently. It quickly vanished under his coat. 

“Very well, Mr. Barton. I will see you in two days,” Phil said as he briskly walked away. 

“Two days? That‘s not part of our agreement!” Clint protested, quickly following. 

Phil didn’t even turn to look back at him. “I‘m giving you my warning that I won‘t be available until then. If you wanted our coffee date to start today you should have made it part of the conditions. Good day, Mr. Barton.”

Coulson vanished before Clint could do more than open up his mouth to protest but then it hit him. Coulson had called it a coffee date. 

“Yes!” he shouted, punching the air in a high leap which made the few people lingering in the park turn to stare at him.  
*-*-*-*

Two days later, Clint was cursing a Red Skull wannabe and a bunch of neo-Nazi scum which he swore had come out of the woodwork specifically to get in the way of his coffee date with Phil Coulson. They were attacking Hell’s Kitchen with automatic weapons and were going to make him late because he hadn‘t dared to call out for their first scheduled meet.

The fight turned out to be dangerous in a way the Avengers weren’t really used to, with the exception of Natasha and Clint. The occupants of the buildings refused to evacuate out of deep-seated distrust of the government and law-enforcement. SHIELD being an agency that encapsulated both got more than a couple doors slammed shut on their faces. And some of those people were armed and shot right back at the neo-Nazis. All of them --Avengers and SHIELD agents-- had to be extra careful of wild shots and ricochets but even then Clint knew there were casualties among the civilians. The neo-Nazis where shooting with semi-automatics and it was impossible even for the Avengers to stop every bullet although they tried. Captain America, Thor, Iron Man and Hulk formed living shields while Clint and Natasha took down the gun wielders. 

The fight ended abruptly due to unexpected help and for the first time ever, SHIELD was able to confirm the existence of the vigilante who’d been named Daredevil by the Daily Bugle. Iron Man’s onboard cameras caught a fifteen second video of a masked man in tight dark-red body armor and horns kicking the hell out of the Red Skull wannabe which was more evidence than anyone else had ever managed to get. As soon as the Wannabe Skull was down, the man did some crazy parkour moves and vanished among the worn apartment buildings which littered Hell’s Kitchen.

“I like that guy,” Clint said, as he climbed down the side of the building he’d chosen for the best shot at the neo-Nazis. The climb was easy with plenty of protruding hand and footholds so he didn’t bother securing a line.

“He had good moves,” Natasha agreed over the comm line, as she rappelled down from her own building. Her voice was surprisingly excited. “I‘d like to spar with him.”

“We could see about talking to him to join our team,” Tony teased.

Hulk made an unhappy noise. “No like horny man.”

Clint was grinning hard enough to make his cheeks hurt. “Sorry to cut and run people, but I‘ve got a coffee date in fifteen minutes.”

“Hawkeye, take my bike if you want. I‘ll hitch a ride with Tony,” Steve said, as he waved in acknowledgement from where he stood next to Hill. SHIELD had been pretty darn useful this time around. Although the coordination between SHIELD and the Avengers had yet to regain its former smoothness of operation. 

“Hell yes!”

Steve nodded and threw his keys over in a long arc which covered the half-block between them with ease. Clint snatched them on the run and leaped onto the motorcycle. A couple of minutes later he was tearing out of Hell’s Kitchen, taking the best side streets to avoid the traffic jam which had resulted from the NYPD blocking off Hell’s Kitchen to prevent anyone from entering the area under threat. He made it with a minute to spare and only because police officers saw his uniform and Captain America’s bike and ignored him as he broke speed limits and ran red lights.

Phil was already sitting down at a side table up against a wall which let him watch outside traffic, both automobile and pedestrian, through the large glass windows. He didn’t look over to the front entrance when Clint burst in even when everyone in the café fell silent at the sight of him. 

“I take it there‘s a reason you‘re in your Avenger uniform and carrying your bow?” Phil asked calmly. “Or should I be concerned?”

“It‘s not for you if that‘s what you‘re thinking,” Clint said grinning as he joined him at the table. He took the only seat across from Phil even if it made him uneasy to have his back to the door. He snagged a nearby chair and left his bow and quiver resting on it.

“That‘s good, I‘d hate to have to shoot you on our first meeting,” Phil said after taking a sip of his coffee. He moved the hand which wasn’t holding the coffee from where it had been resting below the table. 

“You‘re the last person I‘d ever want to hurt, Phil,” Clint said. 

Phil looked at him. “You haven‘t earned the right to call me by my first name,” he said coldly. 

Clint smirked, burying the hurt under a smile. “We‘re on a coffee date. I get first name privileges.”

Phil frowned slightly. “I was joking when I called it a coffee date.”

“I‘m not.”

Phil’s only reaction was to take another swallow. “Whatever you want to say to me, you have until I finish my coffee.”

Clint leaned over and checked the coffee level. Then he snatched the mug away as soon as Phil set it down. 

“What do you think you‘re doing?” Phil asked, his hand dropping below sight again. 

Clint shot him a cheeky grin. “I‘m getting you a refill.” And true to his word he went to get the mug topped off. While at the registers he also paid for a couple of their largest pastries: chocolate-cranberry muffins with tops as wide as Clint’s hands. He was starving.

Coulson’s poker expression was still in place but long experience at interpreting it let Clint read his disgruntlement in the faint curl downward of one corner of his mouth. Clint set down a plate with a muffin and the mug brimming with steaming fresh coffee before him.

“At least eat that before you go,” Clint said, before going back to grab his own coffee and muffin. 

“That was a dirty trick,” Phil said grudgingly, but there was a tone of respect in his voice which hadn’t been there since Loki stole him away.

“You left it right open for me,” Clint said, hiding his grin behind his coffee mug.

“I won‘t do that again,” Phil said, his expression thoughtful as he looked Clint over carefully.

“I look forward to the challenge,” Clint said, around a mouthful of muffin. “I‘m sneaky.”

“So I‘m learning, Mr. Barton.”

They stared at each other, neither willing to back down as their coffee mugs emptied and their muffins vanished. Clint enjoyed very second of it. He hadn’t had Phil’s complete attention since before the formation of the Avenger’s Initiative and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it, missed _Phil._ Even that cool assessing look of his was more reassuring than disturbing, although he suspected he was the only one that thought that.

It made Clint stretch his arms to show off the muscles. Even Phil’s sardonically raised eyebrows for such a maneuver didn’t dampen his spirits.

Phil had eaten about half the muffin when he stood up from the table, pointedly putting down his empty mug. He reached into his coat and put down on the table top an envelope sealed in dark green wax with the nooks and crannies of Loki‘s emblem highlighted in gold dust. “This is to be delivered to Queen Frigga. Do _not_ try to open it, it‘s protected by magic. Fatal magic,” he added wryly.

“I‘ll pass it on to Thor,” Clint said, standing up too. “Until tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Phil nodded. “I‘ll contact you with the location.”

“See you later, Phil.”

Phil stiffened, shot Clint a quick glare and walked away. Clint grinned so hard on the ride back to Stark Tower he wouldn’t be surprised if later he found bugs caught in his teeth. Not that he got the chance to check. All his teammates ambushed him with a barrage of questions the minute he stepped off the private express elevator which took up him to their floors.

The babbling continued until Pepper Potts whistled a loud and piercing noise that drilled into Clint’s ears. For a split second he thought they’d start bleeding.

“Damn it, Pepper,” Tony groaned, rubbing at his ears. “I thought I long ago asked you never to do that again.”

“I only agreed to hold off when you’re hung-over, Tony,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t make me reconsider the ban.” The look of horror on Tony’s face made the team chuckle, and just reaffirmed Clint’s first impression of Pepper being made of steel, through and through but then she‘d have to be to have dealt with Tony all these years without giving in to the urge to strangle him. Clint had read up on the man especially how he‘d used to be before Iron Man and he still had no idea how Pepper hadn‘t given in. “So, how did it go with Agent Coulson?” she asked. 

“Good, it went good,” Clint said, as he casually walked past his team. They just followed him. “Thanks for the bike, Steve. It got me there on time.” He grabbed the keys out of his pocket and handed them over. “Let me know if you get tickets since I ran a few red lights.”

Steve nodded, and then he asked gently. “Clint, are you happy?”

Now there was a loaded question. “More than I was before,” Clint admitted. 

Bruce grinned, Thor beamed and corners of Natasha’s lips curled up. Pepper caught him in a delighted hug. In his surprise, he didn’t get to return it before she spun away. She readjusted her purse strap over her shoulder, tucking the leather purse under her arm.

“That‘s what I was waiting for,” Pepper said happily, a sweet smile lighting up her face. “I will be seeing you at the board meeting tomorrow, Tony.”

“I know--I know but only if supervillians don’t attack the city. Bye, Pepper,” Tony said. Pepper sighed and shot Steve a look which he returned with a very slight nod of acknowledgement before she turned and left without arguing the point with Tony. They all called their goodbyes as her heels clicked into the elevator. “Now, what I‘m waiting to know is if you got past first base,” Tony said, grinning. 

Clint locked his mouth with an invisible key and then threw it over his shoulder. 

“Oh, come on! The curiosity is going to kill me.” 

“You‘re not a cat, Tony,” Steve said amused. “I think you‘ll survive.”

Clint ignored Tony’s increasing lewd guesses at so what he’d been up to with Phil, as he considered the exhilaration of knowing that this day was just the first step and he’d get to see him again tomorrow. It felt like he was going to burst with the joy of it.


	4. Chapter 4

For the next few weeks Clint followed the same routine. He got up, had breakfast, read the latest briefs from SHIELD, went out and kicked ass or put in time on the range, he had a free hour scheduled to meet Phil, then he saved the world or had Natasha kick his ass. It wasn’t exactly boring but what Clint cared about the most was meeting up with Phil and how the large cold distance between Phil and him slowly closed and warmed.

The only problem Clint had --other than the occasional supervillian trying to attack the city-- was how he was beginning to go crazy with the desire to kiss, to touch and to taste Phil while meeting him everyday knowing he couldn’t. First stolen kiss aside, he didn‘t dare push Phil‘s established boundaries. Hell, he‘d crossed country security points that were less well guarded. Yet he could deal with it because he got to see Phil which was more than anyone else could say. Knowing Phil’s conditions to meet with Clint, the Avengers were forced to accept video feeds grabbed from surveillance cameras near the cafes if they wanted to check up on Phil for themselves. That was as close as they got, so Clint was fine. Just fine.

“Two weeks?” Clint asked startled. In his surprise he dropped his ham and cheese croissant roll onto the white take out box it had come in. 

Phil nodded. “Or longer. I can‘t exactly be certain so I‘ll contact you when I return.”

Disbelieving, Clint stared at him. He wouldn’t be able to see Phil for two weeks. Maybe even more than two weeks. All of a sudden, his restraint in holding himself back seemed foolish. Every drop of sheer want he felt for Phil gathered together to hit him all at once in a tsunami of lust; devastating, impossible to stop and as sure to drown him if he didn‘t do _something_ about it. “Do you have to leave right after our coffee?”

Phil raised his eyebrows. “No, I have a few hours.”

Clint licked his lips and leaned closer to him. “I want to suck you off.” Phil paused in the middle of taking a sip of his coffee and he gently lowered his mug back down on the table without a change in his calm expression. Clint continued, “You don‘t have to do anything. You don‘t even have to kiss me. Just let me--let me blow you.”

Phil‘s brow wrinkled and he said cautiously, “Barton, I don‘t think that‘s--”

“It won‘t change anything if you don‘t want it to,” Clint said quickly, cutting off his protest. “I want this. I want it so bad sometimes I think I’ll go crazy if I can’t touch you. If I’m not going to see you for so long at least let me have this.”

Phil swallowed thickly and he looked away from Clint. Clint held his breath as he saw Phil consider his words carefully. Finally, Phil said slowly, “There‘s a hotel half a block away.”

Clint started breathing again and smiled at him, exhilarated. He jumped to his feet. “Let‘s go.”

“You‘re not going to finish your coffee?” Phil asked lightly, shifting his eyes back to Clint’s.

Clint leaned close to him to whisper, “This is going to be better than all the coffee in the world.”

A faint tinge of red developed on Phil’s cheeks to Clint’s fascination and his heart kicked up its tempo at knowing he was having such an effect on him.

“That’s blasphemy,” Phil said, his amusement showed in the uplifted quirk of his lips.

Clint wrapped his hand around Phil’s wrist and tugged him up. “I don‘t care.”

Phil came along easily.

They were close enough to Times Square that Clint had his pick of hotels but he just went into the nearest one, not caring what it was called or how much it cost. All he cared about was keeping Phil from changing his mind. They garnered odd looks at the desk when Clint asked for a one bedroom for one night and paid, all without letting Phil go.

Clint’s self-control was fraying but he managed to hold himself together at least until the door to their room closed completely behind them. Then he dropped to his knees and nuzzled Phil’s groin, clutching his hips.

Phil gasped in surprise, stepping back in reflex. Clint protested with a wordless moan and used his grip to drag him back. “Let me,” he whispered. “Please, let me.”

Phil shivered, and Clint could feel the heat between them increase as Phil hardened against his cheeks, nose and lips. Phil cleared his throat. “The bed would be more comfortable,” he said roughly.

Clint released him reluctantly. Phil used the moment of freedom to walk over to the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and loosened his green and gold tie. Clint pushed him down to sit on the bed, before he knelt between Phil’s opened knees. He undid the belt, completely pulling it out of the loops and tossed it over his shoulder so Phil wouldn’t be able to get to the teleportation-buckle without Clint getting the chance to persuade him to change his mind. Clint’s fingers shook so badly as he undid the top button on Phil’s pants he had to pause to take a deep breath before he got a grip on the zipper and pulled it down. Clint’s open mouth watered as he pressed it to the bugle clearly defined through the black cloth of Phil’s underwear. He moaned again. The smell of him was a smoky musky scent mixed with the lingering smell of gun oil and leather which made Clint dizzy until he was barely able to think straight through the haze of want. He was so focused on mouthing the defined shape of Phil‘s dick, trying to catch a taste of Phil through the cloth that he didn’t really pay attention when Phil settled his hands on Clint’s head until he forced him back. 

Clint whimpered low in protest.

“Clint,” Phil said softly. Clint blinked up at him surprise, this was the first time he‘d heard Phil call him by his first name. Phil slid his hands down to Clint’s neck and he tugged him up. Clint let him move him where he wanted. Clint ended up crouched before him but leaning forward as he braced his hands on Phil’s strong thighs. He felt the heat of Phil’s breath against his mouth that Phil spoke again. Phil’s broad hands bracketed the sides of his head and he studied Clint‘s face carefully for a long minute. “You really want me, don‘t you?” There was such wonder in Phil’s voice and face that all Clint could do was mutely nod. Phil’s smile was a small but intense. Clint was caught by the heat in his eyes. Phil added in a low whisper, “I want to kiss you.”

Jesus, Clint’s knees damn near dropped him on his ass on the beige carpet. “God, yes.”

In his eagerness, Clint nearly bit Phil’s lower lip. Flushing and feeling like a teenager who hadn’t yet figured out the mechanics, Clint drew back only to be stopped by Phil holding him in place with his hands at the back of Clint’s head. And the next kiss was perfect, but not because fireworks went off or bells rung or anything dramatic --it wasn’t even technically perfect as their noses bumped a little and Phil’s lips were chapped-- but because this time around Phil was the one kissing _him_.

Clint moaned and shifted his hands to Phil’s shoulders. He slowly straightened before he pushed Phil against the mattress, crouching over him to kiss him back hungrily. Phil reached for Clint’s shirt, unbuttoning it slowly, exposing Clint’s bare skin. He scrapped lightly at Clint’s abs up to his left nipple making Clint gasp against his mouth. Phil tilted his head to the side to break the kiss. 

“You really need to take your clothes off,” he said panting as he tugged at Clint‘s jacket and shirt. The green of his eyes was a ring made thin by blown pupils. Phil’s mouth was red and wet as he breathed rapidly. The tenting in his underwear was blatantly obviously. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, exposing the white of an undershirt and the curve of collarbones, combined with the shoulder holster still holding a gun and extra clip and the loosened tie that Clint hadn’t given Phil the chance to remove…

It was the hottest thing Clint had ever seen in his life. 

“Right,” Clint rasped dazedly. All the blood in his head was pooling in his groin as his dick hardened. He quickly shrugged out of his jacket coat and shirt and undid his jeans. 

Phil pulled off his shoulder holster and carefully lowered the gun on the side table. Clint grumbled as his boots stymied his attempts to get naked and he had to undo the laces before he kick off the shoes and jeans. By the time he was down to only his skin, Phil had taken off his shirts and left his pants to pool on the carpet. He was just about to pull down his boxer-briefs when Clint grabbed his wrists.

“Hey, I want to do that,” Clint said softly. Phil smiled and let Clint move his hands away. Clint hooked his forefingers around the elastic band. Having his own hands strip the last bit of clothing from Phi’s body was a fantasy that had led to Clint burning the midnight oil more than once in the past few months. That he got the chance to do it for real? Damn near blew his mind. 

Once Clint had Phil completely naked, he drank him in. He had to revaluate his new standard for hottest thing ever because a naked Phil Coulson completely broke the curve. The warm light of the hotel room highlighted every thick layer of muscle and dusting of dark hair which was thicker across his chest before tapering off right above his abdomen. Phil had quite a few scars along his sides, back and arms that ranged from knives wounds to bullet holes some which were so old they were nearly invisible and some so new they were still a shiny pink. Clint’s eyes were arrested by the sight of the head of Phil’s dick already wet with precum nestled among the dark curls between his legs. His dick jerked to the left as Clint licked his lips.

“You have a condom?” Phil asked, as his eyes swept Clint from the top of his head down to the tip of his toes.

“Yeah,” Clint said as he reached for his jeans. He’d been carrying condoms and a tube of lube around since even before their first coffee date. He’d gotten his grip on the packet of foils when he yelped in surprise. Phil had flipped him over so that he was flat on the bed and his head and shoulders went past the foot of the bed. He kept his grip on the condoms but the lube went flying up. Phil snatched it out of the air. 

Then he arched his eyebrows at Clint as he realized what he’d caught.

Clint flushed but spread his thighs in a silent answer.

“Ah,” Phil softly, his eyes widening. A drop of semen dripped from his dick to Clint’s stomach. Clint groaned at the feel of it on his skin. He had to touch him so he reached out and touched the delicate sensitive head with his callused fingertips. Phil gasped and his hips bucked once before he stopped himself. Clint tore out a condom, and slid it over Phil’s erection with firm fingers. Phil’s eyes closed and his back arched as Clint’s fingers delicately explored the skin of his balls. The muscles in Phil’s legs tightened and sweat beaded on his temples. Clint sat up enough to lick at the salty trail of sweat. Phil shivered and he opened up his eyes to look down at Clint.

“I still want to suck you off,” Clint whispered, chasing the taste of Phil with his tongue across his lips.

Phil blinked a couple of times as he brought himself under control. He asked, “How do you want me?”

He wanted him in every kind of way but Clint settled for saying, “On your back.”

Phil moved back and Clint followed unwilling to let Phil’s skin break contact with his. Phil stretched flat on the covers, spreading his legs so that Clint could happily sink into place between them. Clint traced the lines of muscle on Phil’s legs, from ankle to knee, scratching at the sensitive skin behind the knees. Phil’s feet twitched. Clint made a mental note of the fascinating ticklish spot and then he firmed his touch and slid his palms to Phil’s inner thighs. He buried his nose in the crease where thigh met groin. The smoky musky scent was stronger and it made his mouth water.

Phil gasped and bucked again as Clint licked up the hard length of his erection to the softer crown. Clint had expected that reaction and rode it out for he licked at him again. Phil groaned and arched as Clint pressed his tongue against the tip tasting the latex of the condom but enjoying the wetness and heat he could feel through it. Clint used a hand to hold Phil’s dick steady while Clint’s free hand wrapped around his own erection, tightened as Phil groaned again. Clint watched him with riveted attention, turned on by how the pink flush in Phil’s cheeks deepened to dark red. Phil’s eyelids drooped closed and he panted as Clint swallowed as much as him as he could. It’d been several years since he’d been on this end of a blow-job but the feel of a dick on his tongue, sinking down his throat, especially seeing how Phil reacted to his mouth pushed every single one of his hot buttons. Hard.

Clint moaned and tightened his hand around his erection, not wanting to come yet.

Then Phil sat up, pushing him back until Clint released his dick with an obscenely wet pop. “This feels too one sided,” he said gruffly. He grabbed the strip of condoms still on the bed before he twisted his entire body so that he lay alongside Clint. His erection bobbed before Clint’s eyes, but Phil’s chin bumped against Clint’s hard dick, he quickly followed it with a swipe of his tongue. Clint’s eyes rolled back, and he gasped. He quivered, entirely too on the edge.

“You’re a genius,” Clint said hoarsely, as Phil slid a condom on his dick. The feel of Phil’s mouth on him destroyed any remaining self-control, and he barely remembered to wrap his hands around Phil’s dick. He held off his building orgasm with every bit of willpower he had, but looking down and seeing the lower curve of Phil’s lip stretched around him just broke him, destroyed every bit of control he’d been using to hold off his orgasm.

Shouting himself hoarse, Clint arched hard and came even harder.

Shocked from the force of his orgasm, Clint shivered from the aftershocks of sensation as Phil pulled off, turned around and faced him. 

Clint blinked stupidly at him, blearily he tried to gather his scattered thoughts but it was like trying to mold dry sand. His thoughts fell apart under the warm lassitude of his afterglow. “Phirh,” he managed as Phil stretched out next to him. Clint found his tongue and tried again. “Phil.”

Phil eyed him hungrily and Clint remembered he hadn’t come yet. That thought broke through his haze and he wrapped his arms around Phil, pulling him close until Phil was tucked against his front. Clint kissed the side of his neck as he slid his hands from Phil’s hips to his dick. It didn’t take much more than a few slides of his hands, slow but firm, up and down. Clint frowned and peeled off the condom so he could actually feel the wet beneath his fingertips. Phil shivered and gasped.

“Phil…hmm…fuckin’ gorgeous,” Clint said feeling dazed all over again. 

Phil inhaled sharply, tensed and wordlessly cried out as his semen pulsed over Clint’s hands.

“Didn‘t have you come in my mouth,” Clint complained a few minutes later once he was sure he could speak a coherent sentence. He felt rather cheated.

Phil huffed with a soft laugh, his body quivering interestingly against Clint‘s front. “I still have two hours until I have to leave.”

“Good, because I still have more condoms.”  
*-*-*-*

“You‘ll tell me when you get back, right?” Clint asked lightly, rubbing slow circles into the nape of Phil’s neck. The drying sweat and semen on his skin made him itch but he didn’t dare move until Phil got up.

Phil stretched up against his hand with a satisfied hum. “Yes.”

Clint rolled over onto top of him and kissed him lightly. “You know… this hotel has a café. You haven‘t picked it before.”

“Is that a hint?”

“It‘s a fucking clue sled hammer,” Clint said bluntly.

Phil‘s smile was like winning a hard battle, leaving Clint feeling both triumphant and giddy through his exhaustion. “I‘ll remember that.”  
*-*-*-*

The next two weeks passed so slowly for Clint that he drove everyone in Stark Tower crazy, up to and including the Stark Tech employees in the lower floors, which the Avengers usually avoided out of respect for Pepper Potts. Clint made himself such a pest that it took Pepper’s personal intervention to calm down the employees and prevented Tony from having to deal with a mass walkout of disgruntled managers and scientists.

So on day fourteen of Phil’s absence, and still no call, Clint was forbidden from so much as stepping one toe into Stark Tower until he got his shit together. So he went to harass SHIELD. The Helicarrier was fun to explore even after all this time because of its unique features so Clint was able to kill another couple Phil-deprived days reacquainting himself with every inch of it. That he also spent each night sleeping in Phil’s former office, which he was surprised it hadn’t been reassigned, was his secret. It was the only place where he felt better about not knowing where Phil was and what he was doing at least long enough to sleep for a handful of hours. Once awake the worries about what Phil could be facing and how if something happened to him he’d never know about it --he didn’t trust Loki to let the Avengers or SHIELD know if Phil was hurt or killed-- kept him up and moving.

It was during his crawl through the engineering shafts that ran throughout the Helicarrier that Clint noticed there weren’t as many agents in the halls as he’d seen before. In fact the entire place was rather understaffed. So Clint caught Agent Sitwell on his break in the primary cafeteria to find out what the hell was going on.

“Jesus, Barton,” Sitwell said annoyed. He’d practically fallen out of his seat when Clint had dropped down behind him from one of engineering shafts. Sitwell straightened his glasses and swiped at the mess of salad dressing which had landed on his tie from his fork when he’d startled. “I thought I got my fill of you doing that since I asked to be transferred away from you.”

Clint sat in the chair across from him and folded his arms. “What is going on with SHIELD?”

“So you noticed, I was beginning to wonder about your observational skills, Hawkeye,” Sitwell said, as he skewered another forkful of salad. “What do you think is happening?”

Clint tilted his head as he went over everything he’d seen going on in SHIELD HQ. There weren’t as many agents about, but it wasn’t just that, the agents he’d seen had all been older. There weren’t as many junior agents around as there should have been. “SHIELD has lost agents. A lot of agents. How? I haven‘t heard of any attack which would account for such a drastic drop in numbers.”

“If it‘s an attack than it‘s one too subtle for any analyst to catch,” Sitwell said, after swallowing. “About half of the junior agents who’ve signed up in the last few years have resigned or asked to transfer to other agencies. And every single agent who joined after the Avengers Initiative went public is gone.”

Clint sat back in surprise.

“And what‘s worse…” Sitwell said seriously. “Our recruitment numbers are down.”

Clint frowned. “Last I heard you guys were beating off prospective recruits with a stick not getting desperate for numbers.”

Sitwell shrugged. “Things change.”

“But so much?”

Sitwell paused in mid-thrust into his salad, the tines of his fork spearing a cherry tomato, as he eyed Clint carefully. “I‘ll give you my thoughts on what‘s going on if you promise never to sneak up on me again.”

“Sure,” Clint shrugged agreeably. “But only if you‘re not being mind-controlled by the enemy.”

“Fair enough.” Sitwell set his fork down. “I noticed we began to lose people after the Skrull Invasion.”

“That was months ago,” Clint said, frowning in confusion. “You think it has something to do with the way they went around replacing people? It made the entire damned country paranoid for a while and regular DNA screenings are still mandatory for high offices in the government. There are even crazies who keep insisting the president is a Skrull impostor.”

Sitwell shook his head. “No, I think it‘s because of the deal the Director struck with Loki.”

Clint stiffened. “You‘re talking about Coulson.”

“Yeah,” Sitwell said, he rubbed the spot where his glasses sat on his nose. “Word of how the Director gave up one of us to the enemy got around and made a lot of the junior agents lose confidence SHIELD‘s command staff.”

“But it was to save the world. Hell, I was pissed off about it for a long time but even I got that.” Eventually, but it had sunk into his hard head mostly by the application of Natasha’s fist.

“And a lot of them probably would’ve dealt with just fine but we never got Agent Coulson back. Some of those junior agents were former Marines and Rangers. No one likes that one of our own has been left with someone like Loki but they especially didn‘t really take it well. To them if felt like SHIELD higher ups weren‘t doing enough to recover a brother-in-arms so morale plummeted,” Sitwell said gravely. “It doesn’t help that even among the more senior agents there‘s that small voice inside all our heads saying it could’ve been anyone of us who could have gotten picked and who‘s to say it won‘t happen again.”

“Fuck,” Clint said, rubbing at his face feeling completely taken aback by what he‘d learned. He really hadn’t thought about how Loki taking Phil would affect SHIELD since Phil mostly worked with the Avengers. He hadn’t suspected this kind of backlash would happen. He wondered if Fury had. Or Loki, Clint wouldn‘t put it past him. Clint didn’t want SHIELD to dissolve. The agency had not only given him the Avengers; it had also given him a chance when everyone else had written him off as too insubordinate and not worth their time. They had taken him in when he‘d been at his worst and angriest and had found something worth keeping. Then they‘d made him see it, and for that alone he’d want them to stick around forever. “And if Coulson comes back?”

“You think that‘s possible? It‘s been months.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then I‘d say it could save SHIELD.”  
*-*-*-*

Two weeks and five days after the last time Clint had his daily Phil-fix, he finally got a text letting him know here where he could meet him. He wasn’t in the least bit disappointed it wasn’t at the hotel café like he’d wanted because he was too damned happy at knowing he’d see Phil again, at least that’s how he went in thinking until he actually saw the man.

“What the hell happened to you?” Clint asked, scowling as he slid in next to Phil. The choice of where to meet was more classic American diner than café so he had to take advantage of the wide red vinyl seats to park himself right next to him but he ceased to care about coping a feel when he that how badly Phil was hurt. 

Phil’s left arm was in a black cast, his left eye was ringed in a blue-black bruise and his lower lip was split. Clint also suspected he had more injuries hidden under his suit since Phil was holding himself stiffly as if he had bruised or broken ribs. Clint’s scowl deepened.

“Ran into a little trouble,” Phil said wryly, a corner of his mouth quirking up. “You should see the other guys.” Phil gently lowered his hand on top of the fist Clint had unconsciously formed on the white Formica table. “I really am fine, Clint.”

Clint opened his palm and interlaced his fingers with Phil’s. “Okay,” he muttered unhappily. “But don‘t hold it against me if I‘m more than a little pissed off at Loki for letting you get hurt.”

Phil rolled his eyes before he sighed in exasperation at Clint‘s scowl. “It‘s not his job to protect me. It’s my job to protect _him._ ”

Clint’s scowl deepened. A waitress in a blue and white uniform hustled over to them with a beaming smile which looked pretty sincere only faltering a little at the sight of Phil‘s face. Phil smiled in reassurance and ordered hamburgers and fries for the both of them while Clint muttered under his breath nasty words about Asgardian gods and their inability to remember not everyone healed at the drop of a hat. Phil pointedly ignored him.

Once Clint stopped mentally imaging how Loki would look like as a life-sized pincushion for his arrows --which admittedly took awhile because the picture of a Loki pierced everywhere with arrow shafts was really appealing especially if those arrow heads were barbed-- did he realize Phil hadn’t removed his hand from Clint’s grasp.

 _Oh._ The grin on his face probably made him look stupid but Clint didn’t give a damn.  
*-*-*-*

Clint was going to commit murder, a gruesome, and bloody and lingering _painful_ murder.

Phil had finally healed up from the worse of his injuries and he’d accepted Clint’s invitation to go to a hotel after their coffee date when Clint had gotten the call from Natasha to come in. A Code Red situation was in progress and he’d had to run off. Cue his desire to kill whoever was responsible for cock-blocking him. Was it too much to ask of the universe to hold off for just a couple of hours? He hadn’t had Phil‘s skin under his hands in nearly a month. Any longer and he’ll be suffering from severe withdrawal.

But the situation had to be epically bad for the Avengers because Hill had sent in a young SHIELD agent to retrieve him and even sent along his gear and Hawkeye uniform.

“What‘s going on?” Clint asked, as he stripped out of his civilian clothes in the backseat. He was glad he’d been keeping up on his flexibility although he’d been planning on testing it out in other ways today. He regretfully pushed the thought away to deal with later.

“Was that Agent Coulson?” Agent Woo asked in disbelief, as he drove the car with skill at what a normal person would’ve considered dangerously high speeds if they’d never made off to play with one of Tony’s highly modified cars for the day.

“Focus, Agent,” Clint growled, his homicidal mood coming through.

“Right. Two hours ago a disturbance was noted in the Hudson River.”

“Disturbance?”

“I don‘t have the specifics but it was noted and reported to local authorities who tracked it through Harlem River and into the East River,” Woo said. He abruptly braked, jerked the wheel before accelerating out of the way of a near miss with a red pickup. “And twenty minutes ago a dozen water creatures rose out of the river and began attacking the Upper East Side.”

“Again?” Clint complained as he tightened the last bits of his body armor. He started checking on his weapons. “What kind of creatures?”

“We have no idea. Other than they’re gigantic and gelatinous.” Woo shrugged.

“That‘s not exactly much to go on.” Clint frowned thoughtfully. “Have the rest of the Avengers made contact?”

“Yes and they‘re having trouble,” Woo said. He waved out through the windscreen. “See?”

Clint looked and whistled at the sight before them. Woo wasn’t kidding when he said the monsters were gigantic and gelatinous. The one he could see was pale blue and easily four stories tall with --well… he was hesitant to call them tentacles since they were more blob-shaped than anything else and it would just be so cliché-- running down its sides. It was swinging the blobby tentacles around, knocking holes into buildings, flinging cars into the air and leaving behind thick slime where they struck. The street was empty as people had taken shelter inside the buildings.

At least, Clint thought they were empty until somewhere in the street among all the wreckage someone screamed. 

Agent Woo hit the brakes and Clint rolled out before the car came to a complete halt. He converted the forward momentum into a run and was racing at top speed by the time the scream tapered off. He ducked a slimy tentacle and jumped between two overturned SUVs. A pretty blonde woman in a purple jogging suit stared past him with wide brown eyes. She screamed again as a lamppost went flying past their heads.

“Hey, look at me,” Clint ordered. The woman shivered and jerked to meet his eyes. “I‘m Hawkeye, an Avenger. What’s your name?”

“Princess, my name is Princess Larkin,” she answered shakily. 

Clint blinked, and then shook his head. His opinion about some parents naming choice wasn’t actually important. “Okay, Princess, I‘ll get you out of this but you have to do what I say, okay?”

Princess was young and looked to be barely out of college but hints of her resilience showed in how quickly she agreed, nodding her head. “Yeah, okay. Yeah.”

Clint checked his surroundings with a quick glance, adding more details to the mental map he’d been building. The slime monster near them looked like it had wandered away from the rest of its pack leaving a wide trail of destruction. He heard the Hulk’s distinct bellow of rage from what had to be three blocks over, closer to the East River. “There‘s a car ten meters to your right with a SHIELD agent at the wheel. I want you to run to him on the count of three.”

“Wait,” Princess said, clutching at his arm. “Wha-what will you do?”

Clint grinned and notched an arrow with an explosive tip. “I’ll be your distraction.”

“Okay...okay, I‘m being defended by a guy in costume with a bow and arrow,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief, but she also steadied as she took in his confident expression.

“If it makes you feel better, the arrow explodes,” Clint said, with a rakish smile. “Get ready. One.” Princess tensed. “Two. Three.”

She shot off towards Woo, only stumbling twice. Clint shot the arrow straight into what he hoped was the slime monster’s eyes. It was hard to tell. It seemed to have several, like a spider, it had a grouping of various dark spots clustered at the top of its head. The creature didn’t react when the arrow hit but it bellowed with wet anger when the arrowhead exploded.

“MUURAGHH!” 

The wide slit of a mouth opened from a virtually invisible seam at it raged and wobbled towards Clint. He climbed onto a car and shot again with another explosive round. Only this time he shot straight into the thing’s opened mouth. To his disgust he saw bloody human body parts slide out of the gaping wound in the creature’s front. Grimly, he used up the rest of the explosive arrows to blow the slime monster to pieces. Clint only just started to pick his way through the mess to get to where the rest of his teammates were fighting when he saw the monster bits quiver then flow together. 

“Oh shit,” Clint grimaced, and made a break for it. It was putting itself together again. He’d blown it apart and it was putting itself together! Goddammit! He turned on his comm line. “Hey, guys are you having any luck taking these things down? I just blew one into chunky soup and it's forming up again. 

“No,” Natasha said promptly into his ear. “Standard bullets have no effect even fired at close range. I‘m searching for an alternative.”

“No joy here either,” Tony said, no trace of humor in his voice. “I‘ve hit these bastards with everything I‘ve got and they’re still coming.”

“I’ve had no luck either and neither Thor nor the Hulk have been able to take them down,” Steve said crisply. “They’ve managed to halt their advance but that‘s all. The Hulk‘s strength and Thor‘s hammer aren‘t enough to kill them.”

“Is this magic? Because I‘ve been getting sick and tired of magic,” Clint said grumpily. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the monster was now standing back on its tentacle-blob-legs and was wadding after him clearly pissed off. It kept trying to hit him with its tentacles, but Clint was too far out of its reach.

“I have not sensed any magical energy, my friends,” Thor said. “These beasts are no product of magic or Mjölnir would be able to destroy them.” 

“I haven‘t picked up on anything with the sensors,” Tony agreed. “And I‘ve been building the latest versions to pick up on the electromagnetic interference which magic gives off.”

“So, if it‘s not magic then what the hell are they?” Clint asked.

“Some crazy scientist‘s experiment?” Tony guessed. “This is why lab protocols are important, people.”

“Which is rich coming from you since you never follow them anyway, Stark,” Agent Hill cut in without warning. Tony swore in surprise. The Hulk growled as he was distracted from his fight, which for the Hulk took a lot. “We‘ve just received word from A.I.M., they’re claiming credit for the monsters.”

“A.I.M.?” Tony yelped. “Those scientist-wannabe terrorists who‘re giving geniuses like me a bad name? Those morons?”

Clint listened in amusement to Tony’s sputter of outrage and slowed down enough so the creature wouldn’t get too far back. He wanted it to keep following him. If it was chasing him it wouldn’t stop to snack on anyone else. He shot it with another arrow just to keep its interest.

“Well, those _morons_ have sent a video to every news organization in the country and they’ve managed to hack themselves into the top of every Google search result. They’re not only claiming credit but they’re also threatening to release more of those things in every major city in the country if their demands aren‘t answered within ten hours,” Hill said coolly.

“Let me guess, they want money?” Clint asked sarcastically. He caught a glimpse of Captain America’s distinctly vivid blue uniform and changed his angle to intercept him. Steve was battling another slime monster and having no luck taking it down with his shield although he was slowing it down. Clint heard a nearby loud crack of Thor’s lightening hitting something and smelled the distinct scent of Mjölnir’s attack; a mix of iron and ozone that always made Clint want to sneeze.

“To further their scientific research,” Hill agreed with an audible sneer. “We‘re backtracking them to their location now. We need the Avengers to contain the threat as long as possible.”

“Acknowledged, Agent Hill,” Steve said, his tone pure Captain America. Hearing it always sent a thrill through Clint. He was fighting at the side of Captain America that was never going to get old even when he had to deal with slime monsters. “Avengers assemble on me!”  
*-*-*-*

For more than six hours, Clint and the rest of the Avengers fought to contain the slime monsters, trying to keep them as close to the river as possible and away from the highly populated Upper East Side. Clint having run out of arrows, even after SHIELD came by to supply him, had resorted to an ax he’d taken from one of the buildings. It was the sort of ax used more for chopping down a wall in case of a fire than for fighting but considering he was dealing with creatures with thick blobby legs, Clint appreciated the blade.

Even tracer rounds with white phosphorus did little but burn tiny black holes into the creatures bodies which disappeared after a couple of minutes. Clint had never seen Natasha get so frustrated then when those bullets didn‘t work. He’ll be avoiding their next sparring match until he was sure she wouldn’t accidentally break him. Maybe he could convince Steve to go a few rounds with her. At least it would be harder for her to damage Captain America than him.

Clint suppressed a giggle and he had to take a moment to breathe. He was getting punchy. He’d developed his endurance to keep going for a long time from hours and hours of training but after all this time fighting he was quickly approaching his limit. Yet everyone else was still going strong so Clint made himself shake it off and keep fighting. 

He realized he’d made a stupidly _bad_ call when he was too slow in sidestepping a slimy tentacle. It caught him in the chest, right on his sternum, and the blow sent him high into the air. Clint managed to gain enough control of the tumble so when he landed he didn’t break anything but he still landed hard on his side. Stunned from the blow and the fall, he choked and fought for breath. It cost him precious seconds and by the time he struggled to his feet another tentacle was slamming down on him.

Clint’s tried to dodge but he was too slow. He was going to be killed by a giant slime monster. Not his preferred way to go.

The tackle which hit him around the waist took him completely by surprise.

He didn’t fight it and the man who’d saved him used the momentum to roll them away as the street erupted into chunks of black asphalt. 

“Hawkeye!” 

Clint ignored the alarmed calls of his teammates and looked up at the man who’d saved him from the worse death _ever_. He expected to see a SHIELD agent and was shocked when he saw Phil looking down at him.

Clint gaped. “Phil?” Over the earpiece every Avenger --even Tony-- promptly shut up.

“You‘re a little too slow with your footwork, Hawkeye,” Phil said flatly, not smiling at all. He stood up, pulled his gun out of his shoulder holster and aimed, shooting a grouping of three bullets into the slime monster’s eyes.

“Bullets don‘t work on it,” Clint said, standing shakily to his feet.

“MUURAGHH!” the monster bellowed.

“I know,” Phil said calmly. “I‘ve been observing you.” And Phil quickly pulled a cylindrical grenade out of his suit jacket’s pocket. He pulled out the pin and tossed it straight up and into the slime creature’s mouth. Phil then pushed Clint behind a half-crushed SUV and flattened him down onto the badly cracked sidewalk as he covered Clint’s body with his own.

The low explosion as the slime creature blew apart sounded like it had come from under water.

“Was that an incendiary grenade?” Clint asked interested, as he watched flaming bits of monster rain down in wet plops.

Phil stood up slowly and reached out a hand to Clint. “Yes.”

“It won‘t work for very long, they‘re resistant to fire,” Clint said, as he took his hand. Phil helped him to his shaky feet as Clint still felt the blow he’d taken from the creature. He winced and rubbed at his chest.

“The grenade was napalm; it should buy us a few extra minutes,” Phil said, he checked Clint over with a quick sweep of his eyes. He relaxed as he saw that Clint’s wasn’t too badly injured, at least with nothing that couldn’t wait.

“Did Coulson just say napalm?” Tony hissed into Clint’s ear. 

“Focus on your fight, Iron Man,” Clint said, before asking Phil. “Why do you have napalm grenades?” It was more than a little worrying considering Phil’s loyalties were currently stuck hard on Loki, enemy of the Avengers.

Phil shot him a noncommittal look before he turned towards the largest chunks of slime monster. Clint followed behind him until Phil found a piece that wasn’t on fire like the others. It was disturbing how even burning with napalm the pieces kept twitching around. Phil reached into his suit pocket and to Clint’s surprise he pulled out a glass salt shaker. He unscrewed the tin lid and poured all of the shaker’s salt onto the piece he’d picked out.

“What’re you doing?”

“Testing a theory,” Phil said absently, crouching down to watch the salt covered bit more closely. 

Clint stared down at the chunk of monster and he couldn’t believe his eyes as it slowly stopped moving. It seemed to dissolve as liquid leaked out until it shrank down to a shriveled scrap of flesh.

“Ah,” Phil said mildly. “Eureka.”

“What did you do?” Clint asked, fascinated. He prodded the shriveled chunk with his foot and it didn’t react. “You killed it.” Clint stared down at Phil in awe. He ignored the barrage of questions he as getting through the earpiece. _“Wow.”_

Phil stood up and screwed the lid back onto the shaker. Clint grabbed him by the tie and dragged him close. He kissed him hungry, devouring the Phil’s mouth. Clint was so turned on right now; he didn’t care how tired he’d been a second ago. Phil agreeably opened up his mouth, kissing him back with equal desire. 

“How did you do that?” Clint asked, once he could bring himself to stop kissing him. He couldn‘t resist sneaking in a nibble. 

“By osmosis,” Phil said, once Clint released his lower lip leaving it wet, red and puffy. He nodded towards the grouping of monsters which the Avengers were still fighting to keep in place. “When I found out those creatures came from the river, I wondered why they came out there, as well as why A.I.M. chose to use the rivers to transport them into the city as opposed to coming in via one of the bays. Considering how big those things are, it was a risk to have them come in through the Harlem River. A risk they didn‘t have to take unless there was a reason for it.”

Clint caught on. “So you thought they couldn’t deal with salt water.”

“What!?” Tony yelped. 

Clint winced and rubbed at his ear. “Jesus Tony, don’t do that. Phil‘s figured out the slime monsters can‘t handle salt.”

“Have Thor and the Hulk pitch them into the ocean,” Phil said, he took a step back from Clint. “It should kill them although I recommend keeping an eye on them to make sure.”

“You heard that, guys?” Clint asked. He quickly reached out and snagged Phil’s hand before the other man got out of reach.

“Yes, we did,” Steve said with relief. “Thor, Hulk lets test out Agent Coulson‘s idea.”

“Why didn‘t I think of that?”

“Because you‘re an engineer not a biologist, Stark,” Natasha said. The echo of her voice gave her position away and Clint turned to face her as she jogged over to them. Phil stiffened next to Clint and tried to subtly tug himself free of his grip. Clint refused to let go. “Agent Coulson,” Natasha said as she wore slime, soot and the biggest genuine grin Clint had ever seen on her face since a certain op in Colombia.

“Natasha Romanova, codenamed Black Widow of the Avengers Initiative,” Coulson said warily. Natasha was too well controlled to look hurt but the sincere bright happiness in her light green eyes dimmed.

“Whoop!” Tony yelled happily. Both Clint and Natasha winced at the loud cheer right in their ears. “It works! I can see the suckers dying.” 

“Stark,” Natasha said coolly. “I‘d like to keep my hearing acuity intact.”

Tony just laughed and in seconds he shot into the clear blue sky above them before descending down. He was even more slimed than Natasha and Clint combined. He flipped over the helmet and grinned. Sweat beaded his brow and darkened his hair. “Coulson, I could kiss you.”

“Hey,” Clint protested jokingly. Phil’s entire body went rigid until he practically vibrated from the tension, like a taut bow string about to snap. “Hands off, Tony.”

“Just one kiss?” Tony teased. “Come on, I‘ve actually missed the guy, taser threats and all.”

“Clint, let me go,” Phil said quietly. 

“Not yet,” Clint said pleadingly. “Please, the rest of my team will want to see you. Please wait.”

“They‘re my prince‘s enemy.”

“They‘re your friends,” Clint argued. Natasha and Tony watched them but to Clint’s relief they didn’t say anything.

“Agent Coulson!” Steve called happily as he ran towards them. His face was unmasked and the delighted smile on his face was heart-stopping gorgeous. “Your idea was brilliant!” 

Clint could feel the speed of Phil’s heart beat increase where he had his fingers wrapped around Phil’s wrist. But it wasn’t from being affected by Captain America’s smile because Phil looked increasingly unhappy.

“Clint,” Phil said warningly staring straight into Clint‘s eyes. “I can‘t be talking to the Avengers. It would be seen as a betrayal. You‘re the only exception.”

Steve’s honest blue eyes took the entire scene in one glance and he carefully chose to stand between Tony and Natasha.

“You‘re just talking to us, you‘re not doing anything else,” Clint said desperately but the hard look Phil shot him finally made Clint release his death grip. 

“Thank you for your assistance, Agent Coulson,” Steve said firmly, undaunted by their exchange. “The Avengers owe you for you help. Please contact us if you ever need us. For anything.”

Phil paused and gave Steve a respectful nod. “I‘ll remember that, Captain America.” Phil touched his belt buckle and vanished soundlessly.

“Damn,” Tony said into the silence. “He really doesn‘t remember me.”

“But he still helped us and the city,” Steve said solemnly. “He still remains the same man he used to be.” He stood up straighter. “He‘s _still_ a hero.”

“Damn straight,” Clint agreed with a fierce nod, wishing that Phil had stuck around to hear Steve say that. Soon they heard the heavy thud of the Hulk’s feet heading towards them.

“Not it!” Tony blurted out without warning.

Natasha and Clint looked at each other and simultaneously said, “Not it!” Clint wasn’t even sure what he was opting out of, but if Tony wanted nothing to do with it then neither did he.

Steve gave them a pained look. “Do I even want to know?”

“I‘m not telling the Hulk he‘s missed Coulson. You know how grumpy he got last time he was told he couldn‘t see him,” Tony explained.

“And I‘m not informing Director Fury how we fought those creatures for hours, incurring millions in property damage only to find out they could be defeated with salt,” Natasha said lightly. The corners of her eyes crinkled with amusement as Steve grimaced.

“Ooh, nice. I said it so I wouldn‘t get stuck with whatever it was,” Clint said grinning. 

“It‘s times like these I really hate all of you,” Steve grumbled. 

“I don‘t believe that. I know you luuuurve us,” Tony said cheerfully, wrapping a slimed armored arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulling him close.

Thor descended among them with a loud thump and a dramatic flare of his scarlet cape which they were all so used to that they didn’t react anymore. “Where‘s the Son of Coul? We must celebrate this battle! For truly the enemy was a great challenge and our triumph most glorious!”

“Hulk see Coulson now!”

Clint, Natasha and Tony pointedly looked at Steve. Steve pressed his gloved hands to his face and Clint caught him muttering about vacations and how in the hell Coulson ever resisted the urge to kill them all before Steve turned to face the Hulk, who was frowning down at them as he loomed close.

“Um, guys,” Tony said before Steve could speak a word. “Did you know there‘s pieces of wiggling slime monster all around us? And they‘re getting bigger.”

“Still not it,” Clint said promptly. 

Steve sighed. Thor cried out in delight and hefted his hammer high.

Clint’s exhaustion finally caught up to him and he slumped against Tony’s slimed armor. As Natasha scowled at him and unbuckled his body armor Clint watched with tired amusement as the Hulk squished bits of monster between his large green toes and wished Phil had stuck around to see this too.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days after the last time he‘s seen Phil, Clint didn’t give a damn that he was so bruised and sore he was walking like a man more than twice his age even after being the unhappy guest of SHIELD’s doctors for nearly two days before he‘d managed to stage a jail break. He was going to meet Phil come hell or high water and he would shoot anyone who tried to stop him. He brought along his bow and a quiver full of arrows just in case someone was stupid enough to try it.

“Jesus, Clint, you should’ve called out today,” Phil said, standing up as Clint shuffled into the café Phil had picked this time around. 

“No way in hell,” Clint groaned, sitting right next to Phil after putting the bow and quiver within easy reach. He wrapped an arm around Phil’s waist and settled against his side with a deep sigh of content; something tense inside him loosed. Phil gently touched Clint’s cheek where a mild scrape had scabbed over. Clint closed his eyes and savored the touch of Phil’s fingers. He opened his eyes and waggled his eyebrows at him. “Let‘s cut our coffee date short and go find a hotel.”

Phil raised his eyebrows in disbelief and skepticism. “I don‘t think you‘re up to doing anything athletic today.”

“Oh, I‘m getting up alright,” Clint said leering happily. He pressed a hand against Phil’s torso as he wiggled his fingers under the shirt, popping buttons open as he went while he slid his other hand from Phil’s left knee to his inner thigh.

“You can‘t possibly want sex in your condition,” Phil said, frowning. Then he clamped his hands around Clint’s wrists, stopping his forward advance. Clint pouted and regrouped his forces.

“Phil, I’d have to be dead to not want you. And even then I’m pretty sure I’d still want you even if I was a disembodied ghost or brain-eating zombie or an undead vampire,” Clint said honestly, as he shifted in place to nuzzle Phil‘s neck.

“That‘s… rather disturbing,” Phil said mildly, although the corners of his eyes were crinkled in amusement.

“Come on,” Clint cajoled softly into his ear. “You‘ll have to do all the work but I want you to fuck me.”

Phil stilled and Clint could see how his words affected him as his pupils dilated. Phil swallowed. “Well,” he said lightly. His voice was remarkably detached but the red tinge on his cheeks gave away his interest. “I could be persuaded to skip coffee.”

Clint leaned over and kissed him. When he finally broke off the kiss he licked his lips to chase the lingering taste of Phil with his tongue. Jesus, it had been too damned long since the last time he‘d done that. His fingers itched to tear off Phil‘s clothes. “Still want to stick around?”

“No,” Phil admitted. He was staring at Clint‘s mouth with such intent that Clint just had to lick his lips again… slowly. Phil stood up and took Clint with him. “All of a sudden I’m not really in the mood for coffee,” he said smiling and Clint was so distracted by his desire for him that he forgot his bow and quiver but snagged them at the last second when Phil tilted his head toward the chair as a reminder.

Clint expected them to head for the nearest hotel so he was caught off guard when Phil flagged down a taxi --although he was relieved he didn’t have to walk-- which then dropped them off in front of one of those skyscrapers with multi-million dollar condos Clint could never buy even if he saved every cent he earned for the next fifty years. 

“You’re living here?” Clint asked. This place wasn’t anything like the apartment Phil had before the Skrull invasion. Phil had preferred smaller building with easier escape routes and where he felt he wouldn’t stand out.

“It‘s just a place to sleep,” Phil said with a shrug, as he opened the door to his condo. “It‘s not as impressive as Stark Tower.”

“You don‘t think I‘ll set up a trap now that I know about it?” Clint asked lightly, as Phil escorted him in with a hand at the small of his back. No agent would ever compromise a safe house without good reason unless… Phil didn’t think of him as a threat anymore. Phil trusted him again. Clint wanted to whoop and leap for the air at the thought despite his injuries. He settled for grinning and bouncing once on his toes.

“No, I don‘t think you will,” Phil said mildly. “I‘ve met your team. It was a… revelation.”

Eagerly, Clint turned around and caught Phil’s mouth in a kiss. He licked at the corners of his mouth even as he juggled his bow and tried unbuttoning Phil’s shirt at the same time. Phil kissed him back and shrugged out of his suit jacket as he also tugged at Clint’s t-shirt. They got tangled in their clothes and the bow. Clint broke away with a laugh, and he put down his bow and quiver on an armchair upholstered in light brown leather. Then he shrugged out of his jacket.

Phil smiled as he let his suit jacket drop to the carpet, kicking off his leather loafers. He walked toward the bedroom as he undid his shoulder holster. Clint pulled off his boots, grabbed the knife which had been in his right shoe and slowly followed. He unbuttoned his jeans and was wiggling out of them as Phil carefully lowered his gun and ammo clip on the nightstand. Phil had turned on the lights as soon as he entered so everything was lit by a dim glow from the ceiling lights. Clad only in a t-shirt and boxers, Clint put down his knife right next to Phil’s gun. He absently scanned the room for any possible threats, noting the large windows which were blocked by thick blackout curtains and the shelf of books bound in dark green leather. 

Phil’s bedroom was a decent size although Clint was most interested by the decadently large king-sized bed which dominated it. As soon as he finished noting the lack of spaces for anyone to hide and launch an attack Clint turned his attention back to Phil. Then he tugged Phil’s hands away from his clothes so he could take them off him. “Hey, don‘t unwrap my treat.”

“Treat?” Phil asked, amused. He dropped his hands to his sides and Clint undid his belt and tossed it away.

“I told myself you‘d be my treat if I was good with doctors and I was,” Clint admitted, pausing for moment to dip his head to nibble on Phil‘s lower lip. He pulled back and took a second to admire the new red wet shine before adding, “So you‘re my present now.”

“You were well behaved? I‘m astonished,” Phil said dryly. But he smiled as Clint undid the buttons on his shirt then obligingly lifting his arms so that Clint could also pull up his undershirt. As soon as his face cleared the cloth Clint kissed him again. He tossed the shirt away and pulled him close to him with a hand low on Phil’s back and another on the nape of his neck.

“Hmm,” Phil hummed and opened up his mouth to Clint’s tongue. He licked back, the tip of his tongue setting off blooms of heat as he explored the sensitive gums behind Clint’s teeth.

Phil pulled up on Clint’s t-shirt and Clint slowly raised his arms. Phil’s entire body still and when the cloth cleared Clint face he could see his expression. Phil was staring at the large black bruises on Clint’s body with a flat cold look. A large bruise centered on his sternum while another flared up from his left hip to his lower ribs. He’d gotten both from his careless mistake during the fight with the slime monsters. Fortunately, as bad as they looked Clint hadn’t actually broken anything. The doctor who’d treated him hadn’t believed it and ran x-rays on him twice to make sure before calling it a miracle. Clint just told him to look for God among the eggheads in R&D who’d designed his uniform, although considering the people SHIELD employed that wouldn’t be too much of a surprise if it turned out to be true.

Clint plastered himself against Phil’s front, ignoring the ache from his bruises and sore muscles. He took the opportunity to undo Phil‘s pants until they slid down his legs. He happily admired how the man managed to look so dangerous while clad only in his underwear. Maybe it was all the muscles and scars. “They‘re not as bad as they look, I swear.”

“A.I.M. needs to be dealt with,” Phil said coolly but his touch was delicate as he curled an arm around Clint’s waist. He didn’t touch the bruise on Clint’s side.

“Tell me about it,” Clint agreed and he kissed Phil before he took his words literally.

Phil slowly relaxed as he kissed Clint back. He let Clint push him towards the bed, as soon as the back of his knees hit the mattress he pulled back. “You‘re pretty beat-up Clint, this may not be a good idea.”

Clint whined, “Oh come on, I‘m fine. Nothing‘s broken I swear.”

Phil eyed the ugly bruises again. “Well… as long as you tell me if I‘m hurting you.”

“Sure,” Clint agreed immediately, not intending to say anything that would make Phil stop touching him. Phil looked skeptical but he smiled against Clint‘s lips as he kissed him again. He sat down on the mattress and he carefully removed Clint’s boxers, expositing his hardening dick to the air. Then he raised his hips to let Clint strip him out of his underwear. 

“Come to bed,” Phil murmured softly. The tenderness in his eyes as he moved back to let Clint crawl in after him left him breathless. Phil’s naked body felt so good against Clint that he practically purred at the feel of his hands on Clint’s hips. Phil urged him into his back. Clint slid his hands through the hairs on Phil’s chest. He was distracted by three new red wide parallel scars under Phil’s right arm right below his armpit which reminded Clint of claw marks. Clint frowned at them before Phil distracted him with another kiss before he spread Clint’s thighs with his knees. 

Clint abruptly lost interest in the new scars as he felt Phil’s fingers trace the muscles on his legs, going from his knees to the more sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Clint’s dick twitched. Phil mouthed his stomach and his teeth grazed the skin of Clint’s abdomen, shooting heat into Clint‘s groin with every scrape and soothing lick. He kept avoiding going near Clint’s erection to Clint’s mounting frustration. He tried to wrap a hand around his dick only to have Phil pin his wrist down onto the mattress. 

“Phil,” Clint protested. “Come on!”

Phil chuckled low. A rumble that felt really interesting against Clint‘s skin. “I‘m rather enjoying myself, Clint. It‘s been too long.” But the hardness of his dick and the shine of wetness at the tip told Clint that he was just as turned on as him.

“That‘s sorta my problem,” Clint grumbled and tried to wiggled closer. Phil just pushed up on his arms, taking his skin away from Clint which made him whine again until Phil kissed him, a wet and dirty kiss which left Clint gasping for breath when Phil pulled back. Phil was breathing harshly as he stared down at Clint. It wasn’t until his eyes flicked down to Clint’s chest that Clint realized the entire maneuver had been less to torment him and more Phil attempting to avoid putting pressure on Clint’s bruises.

Never one to play fair, Clint reached for Phil’s dick. It was hot, hard and dripping wet. Phil groaned and thrust his hips twice into Clint’s grip before stopping himself.

Jesus, why was Phil not fucking him already? 

Well Clint had a solution for that. “Fuck me, Phil. Come on.”

Clint spread his thighs as much as he could given the bruise on his left hip. Phil stared down at him and then scrambled for the side table in quick gratifying speed. In seconds Phil had a condom on his dick and his fingers shinning with lube. Clint took the second to snag a pillow for his hips. Clint watched him through lidded eyes which he closed at the feel of Phil’s lube slicked fingers on his dick, he caressed the head before sliding down, to his balls then further down to his perineum before pressing a wet thumb against Clint’s ass. When he stopped, Clint swore a nonsense string of words and tried to spread his legs even wider before he raised his right leg and hooked Phil’s shoulder with the back of his knee. 

Phil’s thumb slid in with ease which made him pause and blink up at Clint. 

Clint licked his lips and shot him a lopsided smile. “My fingers aren‘t that great of a substitute for you.”

Phil’s green eyes widened. “I-I‘d like to see that,” he said dazed. 

Clint’s smile widened. “Hell, yes.” Then he narrowed his eyes. He shifted his hips impatiently, and got Phil to slide even deeper. “But it‘ll have to be for another day. You‘re suppose to be doing all the work this time around, remember?”

Phil slide two more fingers into Clint make him arch his back in surprise but the fingers still entered him with ease. “I wouldn‘t call this work,” Phil said quietly as he nuzzled Clint’s raised leg, making his foot twitch. “This is definitely rates as pleasure.”

Content that Clint didn’t need much prepping, Phil slicked his condom covered erection with a bit more lube before urged Clint to raise his hips to him. 

Feeling Phil sink into him nearly made Clint stop breathing because of expression of pleasure on his face, the choked noises as he pushed the head of his dick into Clint’s ass before he slid sweetly down into him was better than practically every fantasy Clint had indulged in. 

Because this time around Phil was real. 

He was really panting against Clint’s neck as he held his hips down.

“Now, come on, now,” Clint demanded, trying to shift his hips to get Phil moving. 

Phil made another choked noise and clamped his hands on Clint’s hips holding him still. “If you don‘t give me a minute than this will be over even faster.”

“Yes, sir,” Clint muttered both amused and turned on by the idea. Phil groaned and he twisted his hips in a corkscrew fashion. Clint’s eyes clamped shut and he shivered and groaned. He had to force his eyes open as Phil slowly began thrusting into him. Phil bit his lower lip and Clint wished he could bite it for him. Normally, he could have, but his flexibility wasn’t at its best with his injuries. He eyed Phil’s lips hungrily before he touched Phil’s mouth with his fingers. Phil parted his lips and Clint fucked his mouth with his thumb mimicking the motion of Phil‘s hips. Then Phil’s twisted again and the head of his cock hit Clint’s prostrate gland dead on. He trembled and moaned as Phil thrust against him again, harder and faster. Sweat was slicking their bodies. Regardless of Clint’s saying Phil was to do all the work he couldn’t help but raise his hips up to meet him. 

“Phil!” Clint moaned and arched his back. Jesus. It felt like he’d been hit with a lightening strike from Mjölnir as the orgasm sparked down his spine and as he came and came and came. 

He shook with the aftershocks. Flares of sensation made his muscles tremble as Phil hitched Clint’s leg up higher on his shoulder the small change of angle made it feel like Phil was driving even deeper into him. Clint moaned an inarticulate word and tried to find his tongue only to lose his wits every time Phil sunk into him. So he gave up and watched Phil’s face with mesmerized fascination. 

Phil opened his eyes and stared down at Clint and in that moment Clint could see the orgasm hit him. Phil’s eyes clamped closed. His entire body tensed. Clint could feel the jerk of his dick inside him and it made his own twitch in interest. 

Phil slumped down but caught himself on his hands with locked elbows before he fell completely onto Clint. He raised his head and eyed Clint’s sternum. He pulled out of Clint’s body easily although Clint made a low noise of protest before slowly collapsing to Clint’s right. He pulled off his condom with languid motions, tied it off and dropped it uncaringly over the side of the bed. Then he snagged a shirt from the floor and wiped the mess on Clint’s abdomen before it rejoined the floor.

Clint grabbed him by the arm and tugged him close until Phil rested his head on his shoulder. Surprisingly coherent he said, “I’m going to perpetuate the cliché and fall asleep now.”

While Clint contemplated the unfairness of the fact that Phil didn’t lose his ability to speak with an orgasm, Phil opened up his eyes. He smiled slowly and stretched up to kiss Clint --oh so softly-- before he wrapped an arm around Clint’s waist and fell asleep. The tip of his nose dug comfortably into the side of Clint‘s neck. His warm breath made Clint’s neck feel really sensitive. Clint rubbed his hands up and down Phil’s back, occasionally stopping to trace a line of scarring as he basked in the lassitude which had reduced his sore muscles to liquid, he adored endorphins.

After several minutes he thought he caught a flash of dark green out of the corner of his eyes. He turned to look, careful not to dislodge Phil from where he slumbered against his shoulder but there was nothing there. He narrowed his eyes as he carefully scanned the shadows of the dimly room. Clint slowly smirked at the empty air and pointedly tightened his arms around Phil’s bare waist, pressing him tighter against his own naked body.

The few lit light bulbs burned out in simultaneous pops of breaking filaments and threw the room into darkness. 

Clint’s smirk widened as the room abruptly felt emptier to his senses. He closed his eyes and snuggled happily against Phil.  
*-*-*-*

Clint never had more cause to compare an over a thousand years old god to a screaming toddler than he had at this moment. Not even a day after what Clint was sure was Loki being a creepy Phil-stalker, the god threw a temper tantrum in the middle of the city. He showed up at the height of rush hour traffic when cars were bumper-to-bumper and proceeded to break, smash and flip over cars, taxis, and even a double-decker tourist bus which fortunately had been mostly empty. 

The Avengers had rushed out of Stark Tower after getting the Code Red alert from SHIELD that Loki was on the rampage. The moment they listened to it Thor went flying off ahead of them. By the time the rest of the team caught up Thor and Loki were fighting furiously. Loki wasn’t even using magic. He was fighting with a spear and kicking, spinning and striking at Thor in a furious pattern that was impressive as hell. It looked more like a martial arts display of skill than a supervillian battle, although a brotherly brawl was probably the most accurate way to describe the fight considering the insults Loki kept spitting out.

“Should we get involved?” Tony asked, as he landed next to Steve. He flipped open the Iron Man helmet and raised his eyebrows at his teammates. “You know what they say about getting in the middle of a family argument.”

“Thor seems to have it well in hand,” Bruce agreed, shivering a little. He’d stripped down to the black elastic pants --SHIELD issue-- he wore under his normal clothes which could stretch to accommodate even the Hulk’s broad waist; it sagged a little around his hips but still maintained his modesty when he was normal human size. He either suffered a little indignity or he’d have to empty out his bank account just to keep himself in clothing.

“You should provide protection for the ambulances since SHIELD is taking care of the bystanders,” Steve said to Tony. For once, SHIELD had beaten the Avengers to the scene and instead of engaging Loki they’d concentrated on getting the civilians out of the line of attack. Steve’s approval for this was written on every inch of his handsome face. He’d even smiled sincerely at Hill when they’d passed her coordinating the agents.

“Standard safety protocol won‘t allow them to approach during an attack,” Phil Coulson said from behind them. 

Clint spun around and grinned at the sight of Phil wearing sunglasses and an impeccable suit.

“Agent Coulson!” Bruce said happily. “It‘s good to finally get to see you.”

“Dr. Banner,” Coulson nodded. Then he looked at Steve. “If you were truly sincere when you said that the Avengers owed me a favor then I‘m cashing it in now.”

Steve looked conflicted. His blue eyes were pained and he bit at his lower lip. “You want us to let him go? I don‘t think I can do that.” He gestured at the trashed cars down the street as far as the eye could see. “The amount of damage he‘s caused… I can‘t ignore it.”

“You won’t be able to hold him either,” Phil pointed out. All the Avengers except for Natasha winced. Loki had managed to escape from SHIELD custody once and no one had yet been able to explain how he’d done it. At that time magic had been an entirely too general of an excuse for Nick Fury and he‘d made everyone know how exactly unhappy he was with it. Now, they really knew how difficult it would be to hold the trickster god. Clint rather thought he’d use the opportunity to wreck havoc on SHIELD. Bringing him in was not a good idea, even with Thor helping out.

“Call Thor off for a few minutes. That‘s all I need to convince him to leave,” Phil said mildly. “Or their battle will continue for who knows how much longer and there‘ll be even more property damage and injuries.”

Thor proved his point by getting in a vicious hit, sending Loki up into the air and crashing down into another car, crumpling the hatchback’s roof like tin foil and breaking all its windows. Loki immediately stood up and flung out a bolt of green energy right into Thor’s chest blasting him off his feet until he landed hard on the street, cracking the asphalt in for several feet all around him.

Clint winced as Thor roared in anger and jumped to his feet with Mjölnir crackling with electricity. “I think the kid gloves just came off.”

“Fine,” Steve said, as he narrowed his eyes at the brothers. He reached up to his earpiece and clicked it off. The guarded look he gave the rest of the team made him follow his example. He shouted in a voice that carried with power, “Thor! Stand down!” He turned to Phil and said grimly, “If you can‘t stop him we will. You only have a couple of minutes I can‘t give you any more time.”

“Captain?” Thor asked in confusion, as he blocked a blow from Loki‘s spear. 

“Stand down, Thor!”

Thor slowly backed away from Loki to his brother’s confusion. Loki eyed him with suspicion.

Phil nodded to Steve before he touched his belt buckle. He vanished soundlessly only to appear next to Loki. The god spun towards him with this spear aimed right at Phil’s chest. Clint reflexive drew an arrow shaft and had it aimed at Loki just as the god stopped his motion abruptly. Clint could see the spearhead had stopped about two inches from Phil.

Tony shifted in place until he was facing Loki and Phil. He aimed his onboard microphones at them and from the speakers in his suit they could hear them perfectly. Clint appreciated it. He had great vision but his hearing wasn’t as sharp and his lip reading skill was at an intermediate level.

“Sir,” Phil said mildly, removing his sunglasses and tucking them away in his suit jacket. Clint could see that not even a flicker of fear showed on his face at how close the spearhead had come to being plunged into his heart. “The Avengers have arrived; it’s time for a retreat.”

Loki looked over to where Clint stood and his eyes narrowed in anger. But to Clint’s relief he pulled back the spear and planted its butt on the ground. Clint slowly released the tension on the bow string and lowered the point of the arrow to the sidewalk but he didn’t return the shaft to the quiver.

“We have a window of less than eighty seconds,” Phil added, nodding to where the Avengers stood clearly ready to attack but holding back. “And then they’ll resume their defense of the city.”

“You will have to explain to me how you were able to engineer such a window,” Loki said slowly. His intense anger slowly drained away until Clint could see him relaxing with every second that ticked by. 

“How did Coulson do that?” Tony asked in disbelief. None of the Avengers answered him. Clint was too busy watching Loki.

“But sir, that would be giving away all my secrets,” Phil said deadpan.

The corners of Loki’s lips twitched up and the look he gave Phil was admiring. It made Clint‘s fingers itch to shoot him in the face. “I wouldn‘t want you to do that,” Loki said amused.

“Fifty seconds, sir,” Phil said. Loki nodded, and he turned to glare hatefully at Clint before he turned back to Phil. He touched Phil’s shoulder and they both vanished from the battered street filled with wrecked cars.

“Well, I definitely don‘t want to be the one to tell Fury that we let Loki get away,” Tony said, his hands on his hips. The Iron Man armor gleamed, for once not picking up even a scratch. Normally, Tony got pretty beat-up.

Thor walked toward them with his brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Avengers spread out,” Steve said firmly, but from the look in his eyes he agreed with Tony and wasn‘t at all looking forward to the next SHIELD debriefing. “Check every car for any casualties SHIELD may have missed. Tony could you get through to the paramedics and NYPD to let them know it‘s safe now?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Tony said cheerfully. He flipped his visor closed before he activated his boots and repulsors and jetted off.

“I‘m going to get dressed,” Bruce muttered as his shivering increased. “Before I end up more blue than green.”

Steve turned his earpiece back on and flinched in surprise as Hill shouted into his ear so loudly Clint had no problem in hearing her angrily cussing and demanding the Avengers answer her. If Clint had been harboring doubts she’d been in the military what he was hearing would cleared them right up. Hill had the vocabulary of a drill sergeant. A really pissed off drill sergeant.

Steve’s cheeks pinked at her swear words and he quickly cut her off. “Agent Hill, Loki is no longer here.”

“What?! Explain better fucking explain that, Rogers! Now!”

Clint deliberately left his earpiece turned off and followed Natasha and Bruce as they headed for the distant cluster of SHIELD agents holding the perimeter.  
*-*-*-*

Phil called out for the next five days because Loki was a really petty, petty man. After day five Clint crashed at Phil’s condo for the night, hoping he’d get to see Phil when he came back from wherever the hell he was. He relaxed his guard too much which is how he ended up being jolted out of a nap on Phil’s couch and slammed up against a wall with Loki’s hand wrapped around his throat.

“You!” Loki snarled. His fingers dug in tight.

Adrenaline kicked in. Clint snarled right back and slammed his fist into Loki’s nose followed quickly by a vicious knee into his solar plexus. Loki jerked back, loosing his grip. Clint followed him, kicking off against the wall only to have Loki grab him by the shirt and fling him over his head. 

Clint hit a chair, breaking it apart with a loud crack of splintering wood. He rolled to the floor before he got his feet under him. His back flared with pain. He grunted, mentally swore as Loki came after him with a spear he‘d pulled out of thin air. He was so busy dodging the wickedly sharp spearhead that he didn’t have the time to avoid the kick which caught him in the gut and knocked him flat on his aching back. His head rung from hitting the carpet. The heavy taste of copper and salt filled his mouth and he spat blood at Loki’s feet. He’d bitten the side of his right cheek.

“What are you doing here?” Loki demanded, as he pressed the spear to Clint’s jugular.

“I‘ll allowed,” Clint said tightly, as he ignored the throb of pain behind his eyes. He glared up at Loki. “After all I‘ve been Phil‘s lover for weeks now.”

Rage shone in Loki’s eyes. “I should kill you.”

“Why don‘t you?” Clint asked morbidly curiously. He should be dead. The moment Loki put the spear to his throat he should’ve been a dead man. That he wasn’t among the dead was damned strange.

Loki glared down at him. Muscles in his jaw jumped as he grit his teeth. “Because… he‘s told me if you should die by my hands then it would do _irreparable_ damage to how he regarded me.”

“And that‘s important to you?” Clint asked arching his eyebrows, honestly surprised. “Huh.” Loki sneered at him. “You know what he feels for you is fake, right?” Clint asked, sneering right back. “He doesn‘t have his real memories. You‘re controlling his emotions with magic. He doesn‘t really care for you. Give him back his memories and you‘ll see that you’re nothing to him.”

Clint’s words made a familiar shine of madness appear in Loki’s eyes. With a jolt of shock, Clint realized that he hadn’t seen the crazier side of Loki since Phil was taken on the Skrull mother ship. Cruel and condescending, yes, but not the look of Loki losing his grip what passed for sanity in the trickster god.

“Be quiet,” Loki ordered fiercely and he dug the spear deeper into Clint‘s flesh. 

“Make me,” Clint said angrily with a feral baring of his teeth. He ignored the jab of sharp pain on his neck and the feel of blood dripping down his neck. He growled to hide the subtle motion of him pulling the hidden knife from its belt sheathe.

“What are you two doing?” 

Loki and Clint both looked over at Phil where he stood at the front doorway. He stared at them with raised eyebrows. Then he glanced at the broken chair. “And why are you destroying my furniture?” he asked dryly. “Sir, could you please release Clint? I rather like him how he is now: still alive and with his blood in his body.” Loki pulled back the spear from Clint’s neck and it vanished from his hands as quickly as it had appeared. Phil stepped into the condo and closed the door behind him. He said sincerely, “Thank you, sir.”

Clint quickly got to his feet as he ignored the warning twinges from his back.

“And in case either of you are wondering,” Phil continued mildly as he shrugged out of his suit jacket. “My memories have been intact for several days now.”

Clint’s jaw dropped until it felt like it was hanging around his knees. Loki looked just as stunned as he stared at Phil with wide eyes.

“You--You remember?” Clint asked in disbelief. “Then why are you still with _him_?” If Phil remembered for all this time and he hadn’t come back… Clint swallowed back his rising fear before it choked him.

“He’s my beloved prince,” Phil said simply, before Loki could do anything more than narrow his eyes at Clint. His words unexpectedly cracked the hard expression on Loki’s face revealing a depth of open vulnerability and longing which surprised Clint all over again. It closed up quickly but Clint had no doubt of what he’d seen.

Loki had come to really care for Phil. But more than that, Clint recognized that longing. Loki wanted more of Phil than just his loyalty.

Goddammit. Loki was never going to let him go.

And it hit him as him stood staring at Phil feeling terrified damn near out of his mind that… he loved Phil. Clint _loved_ him. Phil may not feel the same but he felt it. Because standing there knowing that if he didn’t do something Phil would be Loki’s forever made him want to double over from the agony in his chest. It would kill him to lose Phil.

God, it was like his entire world was flipped on its head and he was right under it about to be crushed if he didn’t do _something._

“My warrior,” Loki said gently but possessively. Clint wanted to wipe the smug smile of his face with his fists.

“I challenge you for him,” Clint said through gritted teeth. He didn’t even know where the words came from but they felt right. Loki and Phil both looked at him with surprise. Clint stared hard right back at Loki. “I challenge you for his heart,” Clint said fiercely.

“Clint, what you doing?” Phil asked frowning. Clint looked at him in silent reassurance before he glared back at Loki.

Loki sneered at him. “Why would I agree to such a challenge? I have his heart and I‘m never releasing it, least of all to someone like you.” His voice was thick with disgust.

“Well, I want it, I bet I want his heart more than you do,” Clint said tightly.

“A bet implies there are equal stakes involved,” Loki said coolly. “You have nothing to offer that I would want.”

“Not even the chance to have an Avenger in your clutches?” A hungry expression flashed across Loki’s face. “You‘d be able to lord it over Thor, forever,” Clint said seriously. “Give me the chance to win Phil‘s heart and if I lose I‘ll join you and be part of Team Loki with Phil.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “This is a trap. You‘re trying to trick me.”

“No,” Clint said as honestly as he could. He shifted his gaze back to Phil, who looked worriedly right back at him. “No, I just want him back. And if you’re so confident you’ll win then try me… I lose and you double your winnings.”

The carefully blank expression on Loki’s face would have been inscrutable, if Clint hadn’t devoted himself to learning the craft of reading poker faces better than his. He was getting to him.

“You would swear your eternal loyalty? And allow yourself to be bound with magic to me for the rest of your mortal life while allowing no one to break you free?”

Clint nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Then I accept your challenge,” Loki said, smiling cruelly.

“We‘ll do it in front of my team,” Clint said quickly. “I want Thor there, I don‘t trust you not to cheat.”

Loki sneered in disgust before he slowly became thoughtful. “Yes, I do believe I will enjoy the expression on Thor‘s face when he loses a precious comrade.” He grinned sharply. “Thor has never reacted well to loss outside of battle.”

“I don‘t suppose my opinion matters in this case,” Phil said, crossing his arms. His expression was closed off, but anyone who knew him would be able to tell he was unhappy with the entire situation.

Loki looked at him and he softened. The gentle expression was more than a little creepy to Clint. 

“No, my warrior, my agent, not on this occasion,” Loki said, stepping closer to Phil. He lifted a hand to Phil’s cheek and Clint growled in warning. Loki ignored him and he rubbed his thumb lightly over Phil‘s cheek. “I have made my decision,” he said to Phil. “You will abide.’

“Yes, my prince,” Phil said at once but his mouth was a flat line. He looked away from both of them. Loki‘s hand slid down his neck and came to rest on his shoulder. “Understood.”

“We will meet at midnight at the top of Stark Tower,” Loki said to Clint, without looking away from Phil. “If you set a trap or fail to show then you forfeit the challenge and you‘ll be mine.”

“I got it.”

Then Loki raised his free hand and both he and Phil vanished from the condo.

Clint rubbed at his eyes. Oh hell, now he had to break it to his team.  
*-*-*-*

It had been a couple of years since the last time Natasha had yelled at Clint in genuine anger. He’d forgotten how scary it was, and he cringed as she called every kind of stupid under the sun so loudly the windows gazing out from their living room vibrated in their frames. Even Thor looked spooked and he wasn’t the one under barrage. Tony had the good sense to huddle against Steve on the couch as Steve clutched his shield before him and peered over the rim at Natasha with wide blue eyes.

“It was the only idea I had,” Clint said weakly, cutting in the tiny interval of silence as Natasha inhaled deeply, loading up her lungs with another round of ammunition. “Phil has his memories back and he‘s still with Loki. He isn‘t planning on leaving him even knowing the truth. I had to try something.”

Natasha glared right back at him and Clint resisted the urge to duck and cover behind the couch. It wouldn’t stop her and she’d only make him suffer for trying to run away.

“And if you can‘t win the challenge? Then I‘ll lose you too!”

Clint grabbed her in a hug, ignoring the growl which made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “I know. There‘s a chance I’ll lose but I have to try. You know I do. I have to take this shot to get him back.” It took a couple of minutes for Natasha’s anger to soften. She relaxed in his arms and pressed her forehead against his shoulder briefly as she returned his hug in an embrace which made his ribs creak and his lingering bruises ache in protest. Then she let him go. Clint slowly releasing Natasha once he was sure she wouldn‘t start yelling again. 

“You are most brave my friend,” Thor declared. There were tears in his eyes which made Clint stare at him in bewilderment. “It is like the epics of old where a warrior challenged another for love. Winning your beloved‘s heart through trial and perseverance. I will tell everyone in Asgard and we will sing songs of you and the Son of Coul for thousands of years!”

“Err… thanks, big guy,” Clint said, hiding a grimace at the idea of having strangers singing about him. “But I just want you to be sure that Loki doesn‘t cheat.”

“My brother is a master at tricks,” Thor agreed. “I will not let him use any in this challenge.” He threw his head back and stared straight up. Clint followed his gaze up the high ceiling dotted with lights in bulbs of opaque white glass. “Heimdall! I request you also watch my brother for his tricks for your eyes are keener than mine.”

“Am I the only one who‘s freaked out knowing there‘s an Asgardian who can watch us all the time? No matter what we‘re doing?” Tony asked jokingly, although his dark eyes were serious as he watched Clint. He’d stopped clinging to Steve once the danger had passed but he hadn’t left his side. “Because if I‘m providing live-action porn I should be getting something back.”

“Now, I‘m disturbed,” Bruce muttered from where he’d been pretending to be invisible on one of three armchairs in their living room. Natasha had taken over another one.

“Are you certain about this, Clint?” Steve asked, his brow furrowed and his eyes heavy with worry. He‘d finally lowered the shield. Steve hadn’t been any happier than Natasha when he heard of the plan even if he didn’t express it as frighteningly as she had. But now his eyes were filled with so much understanding that Clint knew he’d do the same if he was in his place. And it was a great relief to him that even in something as crazy as this Steve --Captain America-- had his back.

Clint nodded. “Yeah, I‘m sure.” 

And what he didn’t say, although he suspected that Natasha knew, was that he wasn’t sure if he could be happy anymore knowing he loved Phil and that Loki had him. Even if he lost his freedom and had to fight for Loki, at least he’d be by Phil’s side every step of the way. But he wouldn’t lose. He couldn‘t lose because no matter what because he was certain of this fact: no one else in the entire universe wanted a claim on Phil Coulson’s heart as much as he did. 

No human or alien or god. Not even Loki.  
*-*-*-*

Three minutes to midnight and as he waited on the top of Stark Tower with his friends at his side Clint was perfectly calm. He’d dropped into the stillness at his center that made everything fall away as he waited for the moment to take the shot. His hands were steady and his body was ready. Nothing and no one could shake him out of his sniper-mode until the mission was completed.

Loki appeared right as the hour passed into midnight. He was back to wearing his dark green plated armor. Phil was at his side, still wearing his black suit with a striped tie in gold with hints of green. His face was expressionless and his green eyes were dark.

“Brother!” Thor boomed in delight. It no longer surprised Clint at how happy Thor got whenever he saw Loki again, even if they’d been fighting like cats and dogs the last time they’d met, Thor was always glad to see his brother. But it still sounded odd to Clint‘s ear.

The nasty look Loki shot Thor would‘ve made Clint smirk if he wasn’t deeply immersed in sniper-mode. All he cared about was succeeding at his mission. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else would affect him until his task was done. This was too important for him to fail.

Phil took a step to put himself between Thor and Loki. “It would improve relations with my prince, if you would occasionally chose to listen to his request that you don‘t call him brother,” he said mildly. 

“Your prince?” Tony asked in disbelief, his eyebrows arched high. Simultaneously Natasha, Steve and Bruce shushed him.

Phil ignored him as he kept his eyes on Thor. Loki smirked at Tony, who glared at him. Thor’s hurt kicked-puppy expression didn’t affect Phil as he looked at him calmly. Thor slowly nodded. Phil respectfully nodded back before returning to Loki’s side.

“Let‘s finish this,” Clint said straightening. He loosened his shoulders, ignoring the twinges from his back from his earlier crash into Phil’s chair. It didn’t matter.

Phi’s expressionless mask softened with concern. “You don’t have to do this, Clint.”

“I do,” Clint said firmly.

“Sir, this isn‘t necessary,” Phil said to Loki, trying to change his mind

“No, I rather think it is,” Loki said, glaring at Clint. “Do not worry, my agent. Regardless of the outcome you will not suffer.”

“There are other things at stake than me,” Phil said looking at Clint somberly. “Things that can destroy a man.” He shifted his gaze to Loki. “Something will be lost no matter who wins.”

“You see more deeply than most, my agent,” Loki said softly. The look he gave Phil was a complex mix of proud, possessive, vulnerable and yearning. After a moment Loki turned his eyes toward Clint and he inclined his head mockingly. “Let‘s begin.”

Thor cleared his throat. “As the challenged Loki has the right to choose the method of combat.”

Loki sneered at Clint. “As the mortal has no magic and--” He shot Phil a fond but exasperated look. “--I‘ve been told that physical harm isn‘t acceptable I choose a trial of willpower.”

“Master Archer, my friend, do you chose to accept a trial of willpower?” Thor asked.

“Yes,” Clint said without hesitation.

“The task is simple. You want Phillip Coulson‘s heart then you’ll need to take it from me.” Loki reached into his armor and pulled out a long golden chain. Hanging from the chain was a clear colorless sphere about the size of a marble shooter. 

“It doesn‘t look much,” Tony said skeptically. 

“That‘s because you‘re a fool,” Loki said snidely. He reached out with his free hand and delicately touched a bare fingertip to the sphere. 

Instantly, it burst out with incandescent light and heat, like a miniature sun on a chain. Clint flinched as the light destroyed his night vision by turning everything white. Bruce yelped in surprise. Tony cursed while Natasha and Steve threw up their hands to block the intense shine. Thor only squinted against the light. 

Neither Loki nor Phil reacted to the spectacular sight. 

“A heart needs a gentle touch to show its power,” Loki said in satisfaction. He smiled possessively at the heart. Then he settled the glowing sphere on his palm and he held it out to Clint. “You have one of your mortal minutes to take it. Starting now.”

The heat the glowing heart radiated was immense like an open furnace or a bonfire. Clint couldn’t believe it was possible to touch it. He reached for it anyway. 

Clint paused inches away as the pain climbed to intolerable levels. His skin was burning up until if felt like his entire arm was going to burst into flames. He gritted his teeth and pressed centimeters closer. The heat slammed against his face, drying out his eyes. His fingernails darkened and smoke curled up from his fingertips but when Clint blinked the nails were normal. The pain remained.

Loki’s cruel smirk widened as Clint bit back a moan. Clint gritted his teeth and glared back at him. He took a slow step closer. He was less than an inch away when it became too much and all he felt was the agony of burning alive, all he knew was pain as his nerves caught fire.

He touched the sphere. 

His identity, his name, his aim, his pride in being an Avenger, his love of the bow, his anger at Loki, it all burned away. Everything burned up with the light and the heat. 

Until all that remained was his determination to win Phil’s heart. He shifted his gaze from Loki’s angry eyes to look at Phil, who looked back at him with concern and worry, wrinkling a deep furrow between his eyebrows.

And he knew one more truth that remained under the burn and the pain because it was the most important thing in the world. More important than anything he‘d ever felt before. Something he should’ve told Phil before this moment. He opened up his dry cracked mouth and croaked out, “I love you.”

Phil’s eyes widened. 

And the heart stopped burning and hurting. The destroying light became warm and soothing. The intense pain vanished as if it had never existed.

Instantly Clint snatched the Phil’s heart from Loki’s palm and he wrapped his fingers around the cool sphere, hiding it from view. He took a step back and curled his hand up to his chest to protect it.

The rage in Loki’s eyes made Clint raise his chin and brace for an attack.

“Sir,” Phil interrupted. Loki looked away from Clint to Phil, who was looking at Loki with a calm expression. “It‘s alright, sir,” he said gently.

The anger tightening the corners of Loki’s mouth and heating his eyes slowly dissipated. And he walked to Phil until he was less than foot away and then less than an inch. Clint was struck by the feeling of déjà vu of having seen them do that before. He took a panicked step towards them only to be brought up short by Thor’s arm on his shoulder. He shot him a scowl. “Let go!”

“Calm, my friend,” Thor said reassuringly. “Loki will not harm him, nor steal him away. He has lost a rightful challenge.”

Clint tightened his grip around the sphere that was Phil’s heart and nodded curtly but not feeling happy about it at all. 

“The very moment the hold that mortal has on your heart loosens but a fraction,” Loki said softly --sounding downright threateningly to Clint-- into Phil‘s ear. “I will take you back and you will not set foot on Midgard for a century.”

“Understood,” Phil said calmly as he looked up at Loki. 

“Good,” Loki said quietly. “Because if there is one benefit to nor having possession of your loyalty, it’s that you can no longer say that it would be inappropriate for me to do this--” Ducking his head, Loki kissed Phil right on the mouth, using a hand to tilt Phil’s chin up to him.

Clint damn near lost his mind and in his jealous anger he took two steps forward dragging Thor with him. Loki straightened, tossed a smirk at Clint and vanished soundlessly. Phil touched his lips in bemusement and turned to face Clint.

“I‘ll kill him, next time I see him, I swear I‘ll kill him,” Clint growled, as he shook off Thor. Anxiously, he checked Phil to make sure Loki hadn’t done something weird to him. But the only difference he saw was Phil’s eyes were blue again. “Oh, how I‘ve missed those baby blues,” Clint said struck with unexpected delight a seeing Phil‘s eyes back to their familiar and long missed color. Not that he was a going to forgive Loki for that stolen kiss. Bastard!

Phil blinked at him and smiled. “So what are you going to do with that?” He inclined his head to the hand which hid the sphere away in a fist. 

Clint raised his hand, and loosened his fingers enough to let the sphere drop on the chain until it swayed in mid-air between them. Without his touch it was back to looking like a colorless glass shooter, like it was nothing special when that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“You better hold onto for me,” Clint said, considering. 

“Are you sure?”

Clint remembered the utter nauseating sight of seeing Loki pull it out of Phil’s chest in the first place. The heart may be in his possession now but he shouldn’t have it, not like this. Not like an actual physical object. Mental horrors of what could happen to Phil’s heart if someone else got a hold of it made him shudder with fear. He nodded fervently. “Hell yes, it’ll be safer with you.”

Phil held out his hands and Clint dropped the sphere into his cupped palms but instead of settling into the dip, the sphere sunk into Phil’s flesh and vanished until only the gold chain was left behind in his hands.

Phil flexed his fingers. “That was odd.”

“Odd? What do you mean odd?” Clint grabbed Phi’s hands, examining the undamaged palms for himself.

“Like I‘m complete again which is strange because I didn’t feel incomplete in the first place,” Phil said thoughtfully, looking down at Clint’s fingers cradling his hands. He smiled up at Clint before he straightened and looked calmly at the Avengers who’d been blessedly silent the entire time. His expression smoothed into his usual poker face. “I need someone to debrief me on everything I‘ve missed since I‘ve been gone.”

“And he‘s back,” Tony said, throwing his arms up in a ‘V’ like he’d been the one to win the match. “The agent we know and love! Come here you!”

“You‘re still not getting a kiss, Stark,” Phil said warningly. “Even I don‘t know everywhere you‘ve been.”

“That‘s hurts you know.”

Bruce chuckled, Natasha smirked, and even Steve smiled at Tony’s exaggerated pout. Everyone clustered around them.

“Welcome home,” Clint murmured softly, wrapping his arms around Phil’s waist pulling him back against his chest. He dropped his chin on his shoulder and happily considered remaining like that for the next forty-eight hours, because he could now, he could remain by Phil’s side for _decades_.

All the Avengers gathered Phil and Clint in a group hug --since he refused to let Phil go-- until they were a large knot of arms. Their own heartfelt welcome backs and delight and relief at Phil’s return caused more than one pair of wet eyes.

It took almost half an hour before they even bothered trying to figure out how to get untangled.


	6. Epilogue

Phil spent the next five days held by SHIELD, and most of that time he spent locked up in meeting after meeting with Fury and Hill not even allowed out of the Helicarrier. Clint was geared up to break in to free him --he hadn’t challenged Loki just for SHIELD to keep Phil for themselves-- when Phil was released into the Avengers personal custody until he could be fully reinstated as an agent in SHIELD. Getting Phil certified as free of enemy influence took another three weeks to all of their frustrations. The only reason it didn’t take months was because Maria Hill went down and barked orders at the agents in charge of the process until they moved their asses or risk her wrath. She wanted to wash her hands clean of the Avengers and the sooner the better in her opinion. 

Clint sent her flowers when Phil was once again assigned the position of Agent in Charge of the Avengers Initiative way of ahead of SHIELD‘s projected timetable. She sent him back a sharp note telling him to stop wasting his money and use it on more useful things, like explosives. 

Maybe Hill wasn’t so bad after all.

Since Phil’s apartment lease had expired in his absence and his property moved into storage by SHIELD, Clint and the rest of the team didn’t have much of a fight on their hands in convincing Phil to move into Stark Tower. Even if Tony didn‘t have plenty of room, Clint was more than willing to share. Phil wasn’t going to remain at the condo. It had been provided for him by Loki’s magic and while it was still available for him to use as Loki had given it to him permanently, no one thought it was a good idea for him to live there.

Phil had dryly pointing out that Stark Tower’s defenses against Loki’s magic weren’t really any better than the condo but it just earned him a pout from Clint and wide-pleading eyes from most of team. Natasha was too dignified for puppy-eyes --Steve was frighteningly good-- she just placed a call to SHIELD to get Phil’s stuff to be moved in an hour before he caved and agreed to live in the Tower.

Hulk’s reaction upon seeing Phil on the field with the Avengers again next time Bruce Hulked out was epic. Clint was never going to forget the hilariously flabbergasted expression on Phil’s face when he got picked up for a careful Hulk bear hug anytime soon. And even if he did, Tony recorded it all on his onboard cameras and had given him a copy. 

It was both funny and heartwarming since it took forever to convince the Hulk to put Phil down again, at least Clint thought so and he teased Phil about it for a solid week until Phil threatened him with back to back training sessions if Clint called him a teddy bear in public again. He didn’t mind it so much in the privacy of their bed to Clint’s smug delight.

A month after Phil’s return to them, a large wooden crate almost as tall as Natasha appeared in the middle of their living room in Stark Tower which couldn‘t be moved even by Thor‘s muscles. The familiar emblem Loki used for his letters was burned black into the top of the crate and right below it was letters addressing it to Phillip Coulson, Agent of Loki. After being checked over by SHIELD techs and Tony’s own sensor scans showed the crate was firmly clear of explosive, chemical, and bio-chemical weapons, and rather tentatively of magical spells. 

So Phil decided to open it over Clint‘s loud objections. 

“I think I can handle this, Thor,” Phil said, as he refused Thor’s offer of assistance. “I don‘t think it would be a good idea for anyone else to open it.”

“I would not use Mjölnir for this task but my own strength!” 

“That’s not what I’m worried about. Let‘s just say I‘m the least likely person to get hit with a harmful spell compared to the rest of you,” Phil said to the hovering team. He held up his pry bar. 

“That‘s true enough,” Tony agreed. “We all saw that kiss Loki laid on you.”

Clint crossed his arms as he scowled at the memory. He muttered, “Explosive barbs with acid, I swear.”

Bruce shot him a baffled look.

Phil ignored Clint’s grumbling as he was used to his threats against Loki and found the perfect place to pry the bar between the crate walls before he levered it open. The side of the box opened with a low groan of nails pulled out of wood before it completely popped out.

“Wow,” Bruce said, voicing all their thoughts as a small mountain of gold coins, jewelry, loose gems and bladed weapons with jeweled hilts spilled onto the plush carpet. There was even a suit of armor, made of black plates, similar in style to that worn by Asgardians although a lot less shiny and embossed with curving geometric designs in nearly invisible dark green. To Clint’s eyes the armor looked like it would fit Phil perfectly, like a bespoke suit.

“Ah,” Phil said without surprise at he stared down at the gleaming and glittering treasure.

“You know what all this is for?” Tony asked, he pulled out a pair of sunglasses from his suit pocket and put them on before he looked closer. The sunlight from the windows made all the gold and jewels shine bright. 

“This is beautiful,” Steve said awed. He reached out to touch a rectangular black shield with a motif of curved gold horns. His broad fingers traced the delicate inlay in fascination.

Natasha stared down at a long matte black blade with wickedly sharp serrations and small smooth dark rubies. There was a gleam of covetous interest in her light green eyes.

“I know exactly what it is,” Phil said with a nod.

“And what’s that?” Clint asked eyeing the treasure suspiciously. He toed a thick gold bracelet encrusted with emeralds and engraved with running wolves. It looked like something that belonged in a museum and not on the carpet of a living room, not even a superhero team’s living room.

“It this plunder gathered from battles?” Thor asked loudly, his blue eyes lighting up with excitement. “You must tell us of your mighty deeds!”

“Good agents don‘t collect plunder, Thor,” Phil said, quirking his lips up. “This is merely my backpay.”

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that came out almost 15,000 words more than I initially thought when I began posting this but I just adore the fic too much to stop writing. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's made it this far! I hope you enjoyed the fic nearly as much I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Also the entire idea of willpower used in a magical challenge is shameless taken from The Dresden Files, in case anyone was wondering.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Depth of Loyalty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2382305) by [OMGimprocrastinating](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMGimprocrastinating/pseuds/OMGimprocrastinating)




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